Growing Strong
by xxredwineandambiencexx
Summary: The War of the Dawn has ended, and Niklaus Lannister sits the Iron Throne. He wants nothing more to rebuild the six kingdoms of Westeros. Short on money, the Hand, Elijah Baratheon comes up with an elegant if not unwelcome solution; marry Caroline Tyrell, the daughter of the richest man in the kingdom. A GOT AU inspired by Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

**Unfortunately I do not own any settings or character names pertaining to A Song of Ice and Fire or Game of Thrones, although I wish I did.**

 **Insert usual disclaimer about TVD here.**

 **Spoilers for mention of potential future plot points (although if you've kept up on GOT you'll have an idea of where everything is headed). Read on at your own risk, and you can't say I didn't warn you.**

 **So this was a thing that happened. Not even sorry.**

* * *

"You're surely not being serious." He voices incredulously as the rest of his Small Council stare back at him with varying expressions.

Kol just looks bored, gold cloak draped artfully over his shoulders as he tips his chair back on two legs.

Marcel, his master of whispers looks slightly intrigued with this most recent development, which makes him think that this was something that even he didn't know about.

"On the contrary, I'm being deadly serious." Elijah Baratheon answers patiently. "The seven kingdoms need something to rally behind, and the fact that you're unmarried is a topic of continuous gossip with the small folk. A wedding is a perfect way to reunite the Six Kingdoms in the wake of The War for the Dawn."

"You want me to get married for a reason as insignificant as that?"

He normally took most of Elijah's advice on board. As his Hand, Elijah was the second most powerful man in this room, and in the six kingdoms of Westeros. But even Elijah it seemed had gone absolutely insane.

Elijah sighs, as if he'd almost been expecting this sort of reaction.

"My Grace, although you yourself loathe to admit it, you're in an incredibly precarious position at the moment. Yes, you are a Lannister, and it has been your gold that has helped to rebuild the six kingdoms after the War of the Five Kings and then the invasion from The Others. But you need a child to solidify your hold on the Iron Throne, and for that you need to take a wife."

"And I suppose you already have somebody in mind?" He sneers towards Elijah, who lets out a sigh, the only sign that he's frustrated with the turn that this conversation has taken.

"Yes I do. I believe that Caroline Tyrell would be a suitable candidate for Queen."

"A Tyrell of Highgarden?" Marcel finally interjects, and he throws his oldest friend a grateful look. "They were the last to call their banners for The War of the Dawn. Why should we reward them with a position as honourable as this?"

Elijah turns that calm gaze of his on Marcel, like he'd been anticipating this sort of question.

"The Tyrell's may have been the last to declare but you can't deny that their contribution was invaluable. They bolstered our numbers at a time when it was desperately needed, and they kept our army fed. As I'm sure you're aware the Lannister gold is dwindling, and it's certainly not going to last forever. I am reluctant to ask for a loan from the Iron Bank, and the Tyrell's will provide some much needed funds for our coffers."

"You want me to marry a Tyrell for their wealth? Are you insinuating that I would exhibit that sort of desperation?" He asks of Elijah somewhat incredulously.

"If you wish to remain the ruler of the six kingdoms your grace, I fear you may have no choice."

He holds up a gloved hand for silence, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface of the table. As much as he is loathe to admit it, he can see the genius in Elijah's plan, even if he wasn't particularly enthused by it.

At 25 years of age, even he'd heard the whispers of the small folk concerning his lack of wife and heir. It was high time that he begin to seek out a suitable match from an advantageous family.

Although, the argument could also be made that he had more important things to worry about than marrying and producing an heir. The invasion of The Others had torn the six kingdoms to pieces, and although his grandfather, Tyrion Lannister had contributed a great deal towards brokering the peace between the regions of Westeros, there was still a great deal to be done.

Entire families had been torn apart, taken to opposite ends of the kingdoms. Houses needed to be rebuilt, there was soil to be tilled, crops to be sown and grown with the coming spring. Half of Kings Landing had been burnt to the ground by Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons before she was convinced to head North to aid the war effort, and although almost 70 years had past since that fateful day, Kings Landing was still a shell of what it once was.

"I'm not familiar with this generation of the Tyrell family. Summon them to court. If I'm going to marry this girl I'd at least like to have some sort of idea of what I'm getting into."

Elijah sketches him a respectful bow, sweeping his stack of parchment towards him.

"I'll make all the necessary arrangements Your Grace."

Kol gets to his feet, running a hand through messy brown hair before scooping his helm from the table.

"I'd best go and drill the men. The latest bunch of recruits are appalling." He remarks with an exasperated sigh.

"That's comforting to know." He says to Kol teasingly. The Kingsguard were a necessary evil, even though he was more than capable of defending himself against any threats.

His grandfather had been sure to safeguard his future by sending the best swordsmen and archers to Casterly Rock where he'd been brought up as a young boy. When his father had died in a hunting accident when he was just 17 years old, he'd been brought to Kings Landing, where his grandfather had ruled until he had reached his 18th name day.

Marcel waits until Kol and the rest of the Small Council had left the room before he heads straight to the sidebar, plucking a skin of Dornish wine and pouring out two goblets.

"You seem troubled my friend. Are you not looking forward to having a pretty maid warm your bed for you?" Marcel says with a chuckle, tipping back his goblet.

"Not if said pretty maid is a Tyrell." He sips at his own goblet, savouring the taste of the Dornish grape, something that is proving harder to come by in recent times. "What can you tell me about her?" He adds grudgingly as Marcel's smile widens if at all possible.

"Caroline Tyrell." Marcel drawls with a lazy smile on her face. "Apparently she's the most beautiful maid in all of the six kingdoms, seven if we include Winterfell and the North."

"So she's a pretty face? She'll do well enough." He allows grudgingly as Marcel smirks at him.

"I wouldn't underestimate her Your Grace. She's the granddaughter of Margaery Tyrell. You know your history, Margaery Tyrell is the only woman who went up against Cersei Lannister in the Game of Thrones and lived to tell the tale. You can bet more than a few gold dragons that she's passed that tenacity to her grand daughter."

"So she's a pretty face and a calculating mind, which is exactly what I don't need at the moment." He amends his previous statement slightly.

"Just give her a chance. You might find that she surprises you."

* * *

"You're fidgeting." Kol says amusedly from his spot slightly to the left of the Iron Throne. "Are you nervous?"

"I am not." He replies immediately, as the chattering of his court around him continues on. He tries to sit back in the Iron Throne and immediately regrets it, getting a jab from one of the many sharp edges melted down to form the uncomfortable seat.

He'd considered destroying it after everything that had happened before he'd become King, but it seemed almost wrong to destroy such an important piece of Westerosi history, not to mention Elijah would probably find a way to murder him and make it look like an accident.

"You are." Kol insists, voice barely above a murmur. "Oh this is fantastic."

"Say another word and I'll have your tongue ripped out." He replies lightly, his tone belying the treat behind his words.

He'd never treat Kol in such a way considering they were family.

"You're no fun." Kol grumbles as the Herald taps his staff against the stone floor.

"The Lord William Tyrell of Highgarden, and his daughter, the Lady Caroline Tyrell."

He straightens slightly as the crowd parts before him, and he's allowed his first glimpse at the Lady Caroline.

Marcel was right, she _was_ beautiful. Her hair a sunshine blonde, her eyes a piercing blue, she doesn't bother dropping her gaze, instead looks right at him, allows her gaze to pass right over him like he's just part of the tapestry behind him, like he isn't the rightful King of Westeros.

Her casual dismissal, her indifference makes his blood boil as she looks around at his Court with barely concealed disinterest.

"Lord Tyrell." He lets his voice carry through the hall, the crowds lining the edges of the great space immediately falling silent. "How good of you to finally grace us with your presence." He adds smoothly, as the older man has the good sense to look slightly ashamed at the time it had taken for him to reply to his summons.

"Forgive me Your Grace. There were certain affairs that had to be put in order at Highgarden before my daughter and I could make the journey to Kings Landing. We are honoured by your invitation. Aren't we Caroline?" William asks, turning to his daughter who turns her gaze upon him once more.

Her gaze is unsettling, like she can unmake him, see right through to his core and see exactly what sort of ruler and man he is. And from the look on her face she doesn't seem to much like what she sees.

"It is an honour Your Grace." She supplies, sinking into a graceful curtsey.

The ladies of the court immediately break into whispers, no doubt dissecting her appearance and the fine cut of her gown and the way that she'd treated their king.

He'd already had enough of it.

"You must be both weary from your travels. Perhaps it would be best if you rest before joining us for dinner tonight."

He waves a servant forward, and Caroline looks less than impressed by his show of power. Nevertheless, she allows herself and her father to be led away, and it's only once the doors to the Hall have closed behind them that he slumps back into his seat, sharp edges of the Iron Throne be damned.

There was no way that he could do this.

* * *

 **AN: So this is the Tyrell/Lannister AU that I said I was going to write. Yes, this first chapter is extremely short, yes the other chapters will be longer, and this is probably going to span more than three chapters. Sigh.**

 **Why do things never go to plan?**

 **So some plot points here. Klaus is the grandson of Tyrion Lannister, Caroline, the granddaughter of Margaery Tyrell. Winterfell and the North broke off from the rest of the six kingdoms after The War of the Dawn, and there is some serious rebuilding that needs to be done.**

 **Klaus and Caroline will butt heads, but they're also pretty much betrothed so there'll be some tension there as well.**

 **See you on the other side!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

"You're distracted." Kol remarks gleefully as he lands a glancing blow on his thigh.

He parries Kol's next strike with a wince, dancing backwards as Kol rains a flurry of blows upon him.

He and his brother are fairly evenly matched when it comes to sword play, but Kol is slightly better. It was the reason why he named him Captain of his Kingsguard, even if it was more of a way to keep Kol out of trouble than anything else. Kol was ever popular with the women and whores of Kings Landing, and if left unchecked there would be a number of bastards springing up that he did not have the capacity to deal with at this point in time.

Surprisingly, Kol had taken to the task like a duck to water, selecting his men carefully, and restoring the order to its former glory. It had been his ancestor, Cersei Lannister who had made a mockery of the Kingsguard, dismissing Ser Barristan Selmy and driving him across the Narrow Sea and into the service of Daenerys Targaryen.

He did not plan on repeating the mistakes of his ancestors.

"Why are you distracted?" Kol asks a moment later, swinging his sword to the side and holding up a hand for some rest. He nods in agreement, sheathing his own blade and following Kol to the side of the training yards, more than happy to let some of the other men have their fill of practice. "It wouldn't happen to be because of a certain blonde would it?" Kol adds with a nudge to his side.

"Most certainly not." He replies immediately, picking up a cloth to wipe the sweat from his brow before taking the proffered goblet of water. "Having the small task of six kingdoms to run has proven to be far more distracting than one Tyrell maid."

Kol snorts in amusement.

"You should probably you know, get the chance to know your betrothed before you're wed? Or you might find yourself with a knife in your back while you're sleeping one night. She doesn't like you much, does she?"

As always, Kol hits the nail right on the head with that usual, blunt honesty of his. It was a welcome, if not slightly annoying quality for someone close to him to have, usually because everyone else said one thing and then meant something entirely different.

"I don't even know how to go about doing that." He admits to Kol, who tilts back his head and laughs. It's an absolutely ridiculous sound, and it draws the gaze of more than a few men scattered around the training yard.

"Perhaps you can start by having a conversation with her. That's usually how two people get to know each other." Kol chuckles.

He watches as Kol tugs off his gloves, struggling with the buckle on his shoulder, finding it hard to move in the stiff training armour he'd donned for their session. Kol senses his gaze and smirks at him.

"You'd best do something about it soon. Elijah's not well pleased with you and he's this close to going on the warpath."

He just sighs, running a sweaty hand through his hair.

"Very well then, we wouldn't want to disappoint Elijah now would we?"

* * *

An hour later after he's been freshly bathed and had a chance to freshen up somewhat he steps out into the Keep, tugging at the sleeve of his red and gold tunic.

Although he had absolutely none of the cunning of Tyrion Lannister, his grandfather, he had still learnt his lessons from the man well.

" _People have to know who you are. It's going to be you that rebuilds the Lannister name Niklaus, when you become king one day. Have people associate our family with doing something good for once."_

A guard at the end of the hall bows as he approaches and he inclines his head in acknowledgement, watching the man's face change before his very eyes. He knew well the value of ensuring that everyone in his household was here to serve him and no one else.

It's not until he's reached the throne room that he finally spots a familiar face. Marcel is sprawled out on the steps leading up to the throne, eyeing off the empty room with a languid expression on his face. Even though he'd been quiet, Marcel still tilts his head to the side, white teeth flashing in the darkness.

"Have you seen the Lady Tyrell?" He asks Marcel patiently, who simply unfolds his tall form and clatters down the steps towards him.

"I have indeed. Last I heard, she was in the gardens enjoying the view over the ocean. Am I to understand that you are to engage her in conversation?"

He frowns at Marcel, because really what else is he going to do?

Marcel chuckles, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Act normal. And try not to insult her family."

With Marcel's laughter ringing in his ears, he leaves the throne room through a side entrance, slipping out through the kitchen and into the blinding sunlight. He follows the sound of the sea to the shaded gardens.

It's her hair that he spots first, spun gold lit by the sun, tumbling over her shoulder and down her back, a stark contrast to the severe style she'd had it pulled up in just a few days ago. It softens her, makes her young again, and he can almost believe that she's just a pretty maiden, and not one of many who have come to manipulate him for their own gain.

She's bent over a fountain with a darker haired girl, one who he is not familiar with. His boots crunching against the stoned path herald his arrival, and both women turn as one to look at him, instantly scrambling to their feet at his coming. He waits for both of them to curtsey before sketching a bow to them both.

"Lady Tyrell." He addresses her directly; ignoring what he assumes is her lady's maid. "Would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me for a short walk?"

"Of course your grace." She replies softly, voice musical as she gazes at him curiously. "Katerina you may return to your quarters. I will send for you if you are needed." She dismisses her lady's maid with a kind smile before turning to fall into step beside him.

"Have you settled in well my lady?" He asks politely, looking for a safe topic to start their conversation off. She looks at him sharply.

"I should hope so your grace, considering it is to be my home for the rest of my life." He doesn't miss the jab that she aims at him, looking around at her surroundings with distaste.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way." He replies, holding out his arm for her to take. She does so, somewhat hesitantly as he continues to amble slowly along the path. "You don't seem to much like it here. Or want to be here." He points out, not meeting her eyes.

"Would you?" She digs her feet in and forces them to halt, and she makes him meet her eyes.

"Would I what?" He asks her, slightly confused at her sudden change in mood.

"If our positions were reversed, would you want to be here? If you were plucked suddenly from your home by order of your ruler, forced to marry into the family that you were brought up to hate?"

"It is not my fault if your grandmother taught you that hating my family was an acceptable past time to practice." He says through gritted teeth, feeling the anger bubbling away just beneath the surface.

"Your family made a mockery of my grandmother." She hisses, practically spitting out her anger at him.

"Would you hold me responsible for the actions of my ancestors? If so, the list of grievances I have against you would be a very long list indeed my lady." He says sharply as he drops her arm and steps away from her. "Do you think that I am any happier to be marrying into the family that was the last to arrive when The Others threatened to annihilate everyone in this kingdom? Do you think that tying myself to you is going to bring any prestige to the Lannister name?"

She's practically quivering with rage now, hands balled into fists at her side as she glares daggers at him.

"You will never be able to rebuild the Lannister name." She says coldly. "Not while the memory of Cersei Lannister still lingers. Your family will be forever known as the ones that tore this kingdom apart."

"And yours will be forever known as the cowards who nearly cost everyone their lives. And yet here we are, two unhappy and unlucky individuals forced into a match that neither agreed to."

Both of them fall silent, chests heaving as if they'd just run for a very long distance. Even now in her anger, he can't help but be drawn to her beauty, to the fire in her eyes. It was certainly a sight to behold.

He can almost see her reining in her anger, breathing out through her nose with steady exhales as she concentrates on looking at the ground rather than at him.

"Perhaps you should concentrate on running the six kingdoms under your rule, rather than bothering yourself about a match that you neither want nor agreed to." She finally says with a stony glare. "With your leave your Grace, I'll be returning to my chambers to rest before dinner this evening."

He lets her go with a nod, watching as her emerald gown swirls behind her with each angry step.

He waits an appropriate amount of time before following, resigning himself to waiting until Elijah hears of this and manages to track him down.

* * *

In retrospect, it's sort of disappointing that it did take Elijah so long to hear of this and then to come and find him. He's about halfway through a skin of Dornish wine, seated out on his balcony overlooking Kings Landing when he hears rather than sees Elijah storm into his chambers.

"You have no idea what you've done you bloody fool." Elijah seethes as he rips the wine skin out of his hand, throwing it to the ground in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow at Elijah's outburst. Such a loss of control was entirely out of character for him. Elijah possessed a calm sort of anger that was so much more frightening.

"By all means please enlighten me, since you've already seen fit to ruin my nightcap." He waves one hand towards the wine spilling across the flagstones, red as blood. It's a slightly unsettling sight.

Elijah just sighs, sitting down in the chair opposite to his.

"Niklaus, I don't think you understand what a precarious situation we're in at the moment." Elijah begins patiently.

"Yes you've already told me, people are gossiping about the fact that I don't have a wife or an heir."

"It's not just that. We're bleeding with debt, the treasury is almost empty. You can't rebuild Kings Landing, or the rest of the Six Kingdoms for that matter. The North are still demanding reparation for the battles fought on their land against The Others, and the Riverlands are dangerously close to mutiny. Dorne is allied with you as long as you keep Marcel by your side and on the small council. And despite all of this, you saw fit to insult the girl that you're going to marry by calling her family a pack of cowards?" Elijah asks incredulously, tone of voice dripping with fury.

"She insulted me-"He begins as Elijah claps him over the back of the head.

"Pull yourself together Niklaus." He snaps, dark gaze pinning him down. "If you tried to insult everyone who insulted you in turn you wouldn't have a head on your shoulders. You cannot afford to cause her insult, not when the betrothal has not yet been made formal. If word of this reaches her father's ears we will lose everything that we have worked so hard to rebuild, and the six kingdoms will be plunged back into chaos. Do you understand?"

"Yes I understand." He replies sullenly. "What would you have me do?"

"Whatever you must. But we cannot lose her Niklaus. Your actions this afternoon may have very well cost you your throne."

* * *

He sends a Elijah for Caroline this time, not trusting himself enough to be able to be civil in her presence. Kol is with him also, as a buffer of sorts. Kol is shaking with silent laughter, having heard all about what had transpired the previous day between them from Marcel.

He was still trying to figure out just how Marcel found out about their conversation, but as he'd learnt very quickly about the man from Dorne, you didn't ask questions, you accepted the facts that he presented you with. Marcel was good at what he did, and he didn't need to know the particulars of how Marcel got his information. As long as he was loyal that was all that mattered.

He'd purposefully dressed down for this, in a neutral grey tunic that betrayed no hint of the family that he represented. Given their conversation yesterday afternoon that had ended on less than pleasant terms, it seemed appropriate.

Caroline appears on Elijah's arm, dressed in an ice blue silk gown that brings out the green in her own eyes. Tyrell green, he observes faintly, as Elijah shoots him a look that very much says _do not fuck this up._

"Lady Tyrell." He greets her with a wan smile, bending over her hand before she can react otherwise. She dips him a low curtsey, expression demure as she glances around at their company.

"Your Grace." She finally replies. "I must admit I was somewhat surprised to be roused from my sleep so early in the morning."

"That was my error my lady." Elijah jumps in before he can, all smooth words and honeyed tones. "Niklaus only wanted to present you with your betrothal gift before he left to carry out his duties for the day."

Caroline turns her gaze on him, and it tells him everything. That she knows very well that this wasn't his idea, but her curiosity seems to be winning out over her disdain this morning.

"I was under the impression that a betrothal gift was already arranged between your grace and my father." She addresses him directly as he inclines his head towards her in acknowledgement.

"Indeed the formality has been overseen. Please accept this gift as a less informal means of celebrating the union between our families."

Kol coughs into his glove next to him, and he resists the urge to drive his heel into Kol's foot.

Caroline simply smiles faintly, gesturing for him to lead the way. Elijah does most of the talking, as he and Kol fall into step behind them.

"Celebrating the union between our families?" Kol echoes his words with another snort of laughter. "Laying it on a bit thick don't you think?"

"Quiet." He hisses towards Kol as they finally reach the stables. They all spot the mare at the same time, a beautiful dappled grey horse with a rippling mane and a kind face.

It had been Marcel that had told him that Caroline enjoyed riding. Not side saddle as a lady should, but astride the way a man does. Given the severity of the situation, and the fact that he thought side saddles to be the most pointless contraptions in existence, he was prepared to indulge this, ordering a new saddle be made to go with the mare.

Caroline's face seems to transform in an instant, wary look replaced by a genuine smile. And for the first time he can see why people consider her as the most beautiful woman in the six kingdoms of Westeros. She is radiant, and breathtaking in her beauty.

She looks at Elijah uncertainly.

"May I?"

"She is yours." Elijah replies with a kind smile. "May she bring you many hours of enjoyment."

Caroline crosses the short distance to the mare, nodding once to the groom holding her patiently by the reins. He watches as she holds her hand out tentatively to the horse, letting the creature familiarise herself with her new owner.

Within seconds the mare is nickering at the girl, and Caroline has her hands buried in the horse's mane, a delighted smile on her face as she runs a hand over the soft coat.

Elijah smiles in satisfaction at this positive reaction, smiling somewhat smugly at him. Caroline notices this and he can almost see the light die from her eyes, the audible swallow as she steps away from the horse.

"Thankyou for your most generous gift your grace, but I cannot possibly accept." She begins quietly, as Elijah freezes, not having anticipated this outcome at all.

He turns away from Elijah and instead stares at his betrothed, trying to figure out what her motivations could possibly be. Caroline takes a deep breath.

"I know what this is. This is your way of trying to pay me for my silence." She states flatly, as Elijah's rearranges his features into an impassive expression.

He has nothing to say, she's essentially cornered him.

"If you must know, I do not plan on telling my father of what transpired between us yesterday, because I have no desire to see the six kingdoms fall into chaos any more than you do."

"My lady." Elijah begins, falling silent as Caroline holds up a hand to interrupt him.

"My father already sold me to you in exchange for another title and some pretty words. Please do not presume to buy my affection with gifts such as this." She jerks her head towards the mare with a sad smile.

Elijah looks lost for once, completely and totally out of his depth.

He ignores Elijah, ignores Kol, instead steps towards the horse and strokes the animal's nose softly.

"I'm sorry that I presumed that this was something that could work. Perhaps I have misjudged you." He allows as Elijah grabs Kol by the elbow and very pointedly drags him towards the furthest corner of the courtyard, motioning over his shoulder for the groom to do the same.

That curious smile on her face is back; the one that tells him that she's not really sure what to think or what to do. It's the only sign that he'll ever get that she's caught off guard.

"This is a beautiful horse, and she comes from good stock. I would hate to see her go to waste. Please, accept her as a form of apology on my behalf. It was wrong of me to judge you by the actions of your ancestors."

" _A good king knows when to apologise."_

Another of Tyrion Lannister's many valuable lessons.

Caroline looks torn for a moment before gazing at him around the nose of the horse still standing between them.

"I apologise as well. And thankyou. This is very generous of you." She allows with an incline of her head towards him.

"My pleasure. Perhaps one day you'll accompany me on a ride through the city? It would do us both some good to escape these walls every so often."

This time Caroline does let the smile stretch across her face, and it's very much like staring directly into the face of the sun, he has to look away. But he catches her quiet response, and it makes him smile in turn.

"I'd like that."

* * *

 **AN: Hey guys, sorry this took so long to follow up! I wanted to focus on finishing up on Billion Lights before moving on to this one. But now that all that is left is just an epilogue, I'm confident that I can get chapters up more regularly with this one.**

 **So we learn a little more about Klaus and Caroline and why they dislike each other so much… Their families have a long history of hating each other for various reasons- Caroline hates the Lannisters because of what happened between Cersei and Margaery, and Klaus hates the Tyrell's because they were the last ones to show up in the fight against The Others, and they almost lost because of it.**

 **Klaus is a bit of a dick in this, but he does apologise because he recognises that he's being a dick in the end, not because he feels pressured to by others such as Elijah.**

 **He knows that he'll have to make this work, and he'd rather have Caroline on his side than against him.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

 **Also don't own any characters or the like associated with ASOIAF, no matter how much I wish that I did.**

* * *

 _THE DRAGON WILL RISE AGAIN_

He stares thoughtfully at the words daubed on the wall, smeared across the stone with something that looks suspiciously like blood.

Kol masks his displeasure with a sniff.

 _Fire and Blood._

The words of the Targaryen house come to him in that moment, and it's morbidly appropriate despite the situation. He rubs thoughtfully at the three day old stubble on his chin as Elijah makes a soft noise of alarm from next to him.

"One of the men found it early this morning and came to me straight away." Kol supplies a little wearily, raking a hand through his hair, helm tucked neatly underneath his arm. "He didn't seem to think anything of it, but naturally I was alarmed. Sorry for rousing you earlier than usual."

He waves a dismissive hand. He would rather Kol overreact than misjudge a situation entirely and write it off.

"Were there any witnesses?" He asks of Kol, who lifts his shoulder into something akin to a shrug before glancing around the small courtyard in Fleas Bottom.

"Someone reported seeing a figure, hooded and cloaked in the early hours of the morning. But they couldn't distinguish if it was a man or a woman."

"Of course they couldn't." He mumbles under his breath as Elijah shoots him a reproachful look.

"I thought the Targaryen line ended with Daenery's." Elijah leans towards him, dark Baratheon eyes carefully picking out their surroundings.

It's still far too early for the city to be up, but he knows if they don't sort this out quickly, that this will be hard to contain. While the sentiment in Kings Landing towards the Targaryens was generally quite negative, word did have a tendency to travel fast in these situations. And this was not something that he wanted getting out.

"It did." He answers Elijah, raising his voice for Kol's benefit. "But there are probably still people that remain in Westeros that can lay claim to the bloodline, even if it is diluted by countless generations."

"But it wouldn't be enough to lay claim to the throne would it?" Kol asks as he motions for two of his soldiers to begin covering up the writing with paint.

"This is not a conversation that we should be having out in the open." Elijah cuts across him before he can answer Kol's question.

Elijah did have a point. Although the sentiment towards the Targaryen's wasn't exactly the most positive with the vast majority of Westeros, there were still die hard loyalists in certain parts of the kingdom who would kill to see a Targaryen sit the Iron Throne once more, the kingdom of Dorne being the biggest of those interested parties.

"Later." He tells Kol, who nods once in confirmation and dons his helm.

"I'll try and do some digging, find out what the word on the ground is. Let's meet later to discuss this further. Do try not to do anything stupid while I'm gone?" Kol phrases it like a question, like it's a given that he's going to ride off and do something foolish.

In retrospect, Kol does have cause for concern, because that's exactly what he's planning to do.

He mounts his horse, turning to glance down at Elijah, who's patting the neck of his own mount, staring thoughtfully at the now paint covered wall.

"I'm leaving you to hear petitions today Elijah." He begins sharply, pulling his brother back into the present. "I need to pay a visit to the Dothraki. Perhaps they may be able to provide some insight into this… incident." He adds delicately.

Elijah's eyes widen at his words, but his brother refrains from commenting on his choice of activity for the day. Elijah had never enjoyed their visits to the Dothraki, found them to be far too savage for his liking.

One of his first acts upon ascending the Iron Throne had been to iron out a settlement with the Dothraki. His grandfather had been occupied with other tasks and priorities, and as such the Khalasar that had settled permanently in Westeros had been left to roam around the Six Kingdoms as they saw fit.

Although it had been the cause of some tension, he had given them permanent lands of their own to farm and toil and to establish a settlement on just outside of Kings Landing. For the most part, they remained governed by their own laws and customs, although they still did have to answer directly to him. Oftentimes he'd been called to their lands to pass judgement on a particularly trying case, and his word was the final authority.

He had a good relationship with the current Khal, and the level of trust between them was so great that he usually visited them without a guard.

All the same, he made his way out of the city with a peace banner, hooded and cloaked as he took the road that wound its way towards the Dothraki encampment.

It was a pleasant morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the hills, the sun setting fire to the millions of dewdrops blanketed across the grass around him. Even now, 70 or so years later it was still possible to see signs of the war that tore the seven kingdoms apart.

He's greeted by two outriders as he approaches the camp, and he lets the hood slip from his head as they draw nearer, taking note of the peace banner before circling around him, one flanking him on either side. They nod respectfully, greeting him in the guttural language that usually terrifies most of the citizenry.

It's thanks to his grandfather that he's fluent in Dothraki, Tyrion having the foresight to see that the Dothraki weren't likely to go anywhere, and would probably settle in Westeros with very little warning. He'd enjoyed learning the strange language, trying to wrap his tongue around a particular turn of phrase that seemed entirely unnatural at the time.

They clear a path right to the centre of the camp, and the Khal, Khal Rago greets him with a delighted roar. He barely has time to dismount before he's being pulled into a crushing hug, Rago slapping him on the back.

"Little Lion it has been too long since you have visited us." Rago's Common Tongue is broken and hesitant, but he has an admirable grasp of the language used throughout the six kingdoms.

Little Lion was the name coined for him by Rago way back when he was a young lad visiting the Dothraki encampment while his father was King. Rago was about ten years older than him, and never let him forget it.

"I apologise." He holds his hands up in a placating gesture. "I was hoping to talk to you privately. There's been an incident and I was hoping you might be able to provide some insight."

Rago picks up on the urgency of his tone straight away, barking out something in Dothraki to his blood riders. Immediately they move to clear away the curious crowd as Rago leads him into the tent.

"I wish you well my friend. I hear you are to be wed." Rago begins, pouring them both a cup of wine before settling cross legged on a mountain of pillows.

He sinks down opposite his friend and accepts the cup gratefully.

"Thankyou. She is beautiful, but that's not why I came. Although we're having a feast tonight to celebrate our betrothal, so you must come."

"Of course." Rago agrees lightly.

The silence stretches on between them as Rago displays an incredible amount of patience and waits for him to speak.

"I saw something this morning that… troubled me." He begins delicately. "Kol roused me before the sun had risen to show me something that was written in the streets."

"The dragon will rise again." Rago supplies with a twisted smile.

"How did you know?"

"It is not the first time I've heard this phrase, but it has only ever been outside of the city walls. I take this to mean that this is the first time you've encountered this?"

He nods as Rago drains his cup and sets it aside.

"It is a common phrase among Targaryen loyalists. I do not believe it is a cause for concern as of yet, but it is something you should- how do you put it? Keep an eye out for." Rago taps his fingers against his knee thoughtfully.

He leans forward, balancing his own cup on his knee as he gazes at Rago curiously.

"Actually I was wondering if it wasn't something that might have originated with your people."

Rago smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"We have short memories little lion. Only the oldest of our people even remember the Targaryen's. If there were loyalists in our camp looking to stamp out the current monarchy, I would bring them to you."

He nods towards Rago, reassured by the other man's words.

"Thankyou." He clasps hands with Rago before climbing to his feet.

His horse is waiting for him, a Dothraki blood rider holding the reins patiently while he says his farewells to Rago, promising to share a drink with him at the feast later tonight.

"Be wary little lion. I will keep watch for you outside of the city, but I can't promise the same for inside the walls."

* * *

He bursts through the door of the Small Council Chamber, holding back his snort as William Forbes shoots to his feet, sketching him an awkward if not exaggerated bow.

He ignores Elijah's glare and seats himself at the head of the table, planting his boots firmly on the ground as he smiles apologetically.

"Forgive my tardiness my lord. There was a situation outside of the city that required my attention." He begins, pulling off his gloves and fixing his gaze on William Forbes.

He could always measure the true mettle of a man by whether or not they chose to meet his eyes. Some chose to stare at a spot just below his face, not willing to make eye contact. Others chose to meet his gaze head on. They were the truly brave.

William Forbes was one of the former.

"Of course, we await your pleasure your grace." William Forbes returns a little stiffly.

"I'm assuming that Elijah has taken you through the betrothal document? I trust that there were no issues with it?" He asks politely as William frowns at him.

Time had not been kind to the Tyrell patriarch. Bill Forbes had been far too young to fight in The War for the Dawn, and had done little to prove himself ever since. He'd commanded the Tyrell fortune from a very young age, and although the family had flourished since the War had ended, in the eyes of the rest of the kingdom they'd all but faded into obscurity, and their reputation had improved little under his care.

Even now, grey hair curled at his temples, extra weight hung from his bones and there was a wearied set to his features that hadn't been there a few days ago. Being at Court clearly did not agree with William Forbes.

He himself had taken the time to read the entire document last night before dinner. He wasn't a fool, he wanted to know what he was getting himself into.

"You wish for me to pay reparations to the crown along with providing a sizeable dowry and yearly income for my daughter?" William Forbes glances at him and Elijah incredulously.

Elijah leans forward, a serene smile in place.

"What we are asking you to pay is no more than what any other great family has paid to help rebuild the six kingdoms. You may ask the Tully's of Riverrun or the Arryn's of the Vale if you don't believe me."

"It seems a little exorbitant." William replies with another unpleasant, twisted smile.

"Given that your family has not paid their reparations yet, and from all reports is sitting on quite a vast sum of money, it seems fair that you contribute towards some of the rebuilding of the kingdoms since your army backed one of the kings that tore it apart." He remarks a little sharply as William meets his gaze for the first time.

"Ah. So you're marrying my daughter for her fortune. Is the Iron Bank unwilling to trade with you?" William arches an eyebrow incredulously as Elijah glares at the other man.

"I think you'll find it's the other way around. We would rather not bring the Iron Bank into this considering we only just finished paying back a loan that Cersei Lannister had taken out around seventy years ago." Elijah points out smoothly, diplomatic smile in place.

He falls silent, willing to let Elijah smooth this one over. He had no time for flattery or for William Forbes.

"It's a sizeable dent in your coffers I'm sure, but there's still enough for you and your family to live comfortably. It would do a great deal to mend your family's reputation, if the people knew that you were helping to rebuild." He cuts over Elijah, tenting his fingers together and fixing his gaze once more upon the older man sitting before him.

He reaches for the quill next to Elijah's elbow, holding William's stare as he scrawls his signature across the bottom of the document.

"Sign that, and your daughter becomes the next Queen of Westeros. And I promise I will do everything in my power to treat her well and keep her happy. I know our families have not always had the most auspicious of relationships, but I'm weary of the bad blood."

Elijah lets out a long suffering sigh from next to him, but the tension in the room prevails over anything else.

There's a long pause before he leans forward over the table, offering the quill to William Forbes.

The older man accepts it.

* * *

"You're such a woman. Why do you always take so long to get ready?" Kol asks with a grin as his man servant helps him pull a tunic over his head, black with Lannister red trimmings.

He rolls his eyes in the direction of his sibling, choosing not to reply in favour of settling his crown on his curls and strapping his dagger to his waist.

"I'm the King. Everyone else waits for me. Have you seen the Lady Caroline this evening?"

Kol shrugs.

"I'm sure Elijah has tracked her down so the two of you can make your entrance, if she hasn't already made a daring escape on the mare that you gifted her."

He freezes, eyes flicking towards Kol, who just lets out a chuckle.

"Relax. I'm sure she's with Elijah. He seems to have more of an idea of what's happening than anyone else in this bloody Keep."

"True that." He replies, dismissing his man servant with a curt nod. He closes the distance between himself and Kol, clapping his brother once on the shoulder.

"Shall we be off then?"

They wind their way through the many halls and corridors of the Keep, Kol taking the lead as they cross the courtyard and head towards the Great Hall for the betrothal feast.

Elijah had officially announced their engagement after the signing of the document, sending ravens out to all six kingdoms, and Winterfell in the North. He'd been so wrapped up in his duties that he hadn't had time to see if Caroline was comfortable with everything that was rapidly unfolding.

In fact, they'd not spoken since he'd gifted her the horse.

Elijah is waiting for them when they reach the entrance to the hall, his Hand looking surprisingly anxious despite everything.

"Oh good you're here Niklaus. The Lady Caroline has not yet arrived, although I anticipate that she is still probably dressing. It shouldn't be too long I hope." He says above the loud conversation from the Hall beyond, where members of the Court would already be seated, waiting for him and Caroline.

Elijah is right; they don't have to wait for long. It's Kol that elbows him in the ribs, jerking his head to the left as he turns, following the line of his brother's gaze.

His throat goes dry when he catches sight of Caroline.

Dresses in the South had always been more flimsy than their Northern companions. The Northern garb was built for the winter, just as Southron dresses were designed to provide some relief from the constant heat bearing down on the city.

The gown Caroline was wearing was sleeveless, bodice dipping lower than what was usually worn around Court, but not low enough to cause a scandal. The gown nipped in at her waist wonderfully, ruffled silks tumbling to the ground. She wore no extra adornments, her beauty and radiance was clear enough to see. It was a gown designed to make her look powerful, like a woman rather than a girl. It worked.

Perhaps the most striking thing about the gown was its colour.

Lannister red.

His feet carry him forward before he can stop himself, and before he knows it he's crossed the distance between them, ignoring Kol's glance of amusement as he bows over her hand.

"Lady Caroline." He begins hesitantly, and surely he's not _nervous?_

Caroline returns his smile a little shyly all things considered, bobbing into a graceful curtsey.

"Your grace." She returns quietly, allowing him to take her hand between his.

"You're shaking." He remarks as he squeezes her hand gently. "Are you nervous?"

It's a tender moment as she swallows audibly, confirming his suspicions with a nod but not daring to say anything out loud. And it strikes him then just how young she is, from memory not having yet reached her twentieth name day.

It's far older than most women who had married advantageously to further their families in the past, but since the war things had been done a little differently. It was not unusual for women to be married until they had reached a suitable age.

"I wish I could reassure you that people will treat you with the respect you deserve as my betrothed." He begins in a low voice as she looks at him curiously. "However you may find this is not always the case. I want you to tell me if someone makes you feel uneasy. I will personally deal with it."

"Thankyou Niklaus. Your grace." She corrects herself with a blush.

He smiles softly at her, noting the rosy flush to her cheek as her eyes drop to the floor.

 _So young._

"Call me Klaus." He reprimands her gently, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and turning towards the entrance to the great hall. Her dress whispers against the stone floor as they walk, the heat from her body seeping into his.

The transformation in her is clearly visible. The smile fixed on her face is convincing enough, but doesn't quite reach her eyes, lest it betray just how frightened she is. Her back straightens, her shoulders pull back, and her chin takes on a defiant tint.

Tonight will be written in the pages of history, the young woman, the little flower, becoming the Queen of Westeros.

He walks beside her as she steps forward to meet her fate.

* * *

 **AN:**

 **Hi guys. I'm so sorry; I know it's been awhile since I've updated this. Forgive me?**

 **To be honest I sort of had a bit of writers block with this story, but I seem to have gotten my mojo back. I couldn't tell you when the next chapter is coming, because I honestly have no idea myself.**

 **Thanks to everyone who nominated this for the Klaroline Awards. It's my first year being nominated, so I've got fairly low expectations, but thanks in advance to everyone that may have voted for this!**

 **I know you guys have been waiting for this for awhile, so I hope it's worth it. Not much in the way of Klaroline, but I start to introduce threads of the overarching plot.**

 **We'll find out more about Caroline and her past in the next chapter or two.**

 **Until next time! In the meantime I'm going to work on Chapter 1 of my Spies AU. Keep an eye out in the next few days!**

 **Katie xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Growing Strong Chapter 4**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

Something shifts between the two of them after that night at their engagement feast. In fact, he finds himself hard pressed to take his eyes off her when they meet in the corridor or he sees her in the garden.

Kol, who is determined to tail him everywhere, smiles smugly each time this happens. Kol then takes the liberty to bow over Caroline's hand with an exaggerated flair that only he could get away with being the King's brother.

"You like her." Kol announces delightedly after one such occasion, where he'd bumped into Caroline in one of the many courtyards in the Keep, a book in her hand and her golden curls tumbling down her back. She'd been accompanied as ever by her lady's maid, the dark haired woman gazing at him with a knowing smile, completely bold in her actions towards him.

"Keep your voice down." He replies gruffly as Kol tips his head back and laughs, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword. The two women had long since retreated down the path, no longer in sight, but he still feared someone finding out and using the information against him. Caroline was not truly safe until they were married, and there were Targaryen loyalists who may possibly seek to use her as leverage.

"No this is fantastic." Kol remarks, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "You swore you'd never marry a Tyrell as long as you were the King of Westeros, and yet here you are lusting after one."

"I'm not lusting after the Lady Caroline." He growls under his breath towards Kol, who has the good sense to look slightly apologetic, hands held out in a placating gesture. "I have other things to worry about at this point in time. Have you had much success with rooting out Targaryen loyalists?"

Kol glances around as they step into the shadow of the castle, the two guards swinging open the heavy doors for them. His boots ring out against the marble floor as they cross the room.

"No I haven't. Whoever they are, they're hiding their tracks well. I'm willing to believe that there aren't many of them, but it could go either way at this point in time."

"Find them." He orders Kol, who nods sharply.

There's silence between them for only a moment before Kol speaks again.

"You need to be careful with this Nik. How you react if we do find something may very well dictate how the general population view you as a ruler."

"People are trying to kill me and put a random Targaryen with diluted blood on the throne. How do you think I'm going to deal with it?" He hisses towards Kol, who rolls his shoulders and lets out a sigh.

"Carefully I would hope. The war might be over but until you marry and produce an heir your throne is never going to be secure. People have long memories."

"I have done nothing but rebuilt this kingdom. The people would do well to remember that it was my family's gold that got the Iron Bank off our back and fed the hungry when there was barely any food to go around. It was my money that went towards distributing crops to the farmers and lowering the taxes."

Kol's lips twist into an unpleasant smile.

"But they also remember that you are a Lannister. And as long as people are still alive to remember the reign of terror of Tywin, Joffrey and Cersei Lannister, they will always be distrustful towards you and your family name, no matter how many noble deeds you perform as King."

He tugs at his cloak; feeling suffocated all of a sudden. His crown hangs heavy on his head, and he wants nothing more than to rip it from his head and cast it aside, leave the running of the kingdom to Elijah for awhile.

But he is not in a position to do so, not when there are others who would see him fail.

"Find them." He repeats to Kol. "Or we all fall."

* * *

He spots Caroline later that day in the practice yard, a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder, a bow held awkwardly in her hand. The men around the yard all have varying reactions, but they all stop to stare as she crosses the hard packed dirt to stand before him.

He sketches her a bow, an amused if not fond smile tugging at his lips as she looks around somewhat uncomfortably. He can tell how out of place she feels.

It only takes one glance around the yard for the rest of the men to return to their previous activities. Kol hovers over his left shoulder, staring at Caroline with barely concealed curiosity, like this is an oddity for him.

It strikes him then that this _would_ be seen as an oddity for someone like Kol. His grandfather's time had seen great women who were warriors- Arya Stark of Winterfell and Brienne of Tarth to name just two. The former had given her life in the defence of the Seven Kingdoms against the Others, the latter had survived the war and had turned Tarth into a prosperous part of the Kingdom.

Caroline is still dressed in a gown, one of surprisingly simple make and cut all things considered. He was unused to seeing her in anything but cloth of the finest make.

"I saw you practicing and hoped that you might teach me how to shoot. You are skilled with a bow, are you not?" She asks quietly, keeping her voice low as he glances dismissively at Kol.

Kol seemingly gets the message right away, strolling off across the practice yard to engage one of his Kingsguard in a sparring session.

It's an odd request, and one that he never thought he'd hear from her. It would seem that she continues to surprise him as the days pass.

"Of course." He replies with a nod, sheathing his sword and holding his arm out to her. She looks surprised but steps forward to take it, hand curling around the sleeve of his tunic. "I was taught how to draw a bow by the very best castellan at Casterly Rock when I was a boy."

She had been surprisingly civil to him after the feast. They still didn't hold conversations longer than a few seconds, and time spent alone together was scarce. But he felt like they'd come to an understanding about their situation. They may as well make the best of it if they are to be tied to the other for life.

And really, he could have done a lot worse than Lady Caroline Tyrell, even if her father was absolutely insufferable. William Tyrell had begrudgingly begun making the arrangements for paying reparations to the Crown.

"You seem surprised by my agreeing to this." He remarks once they have cleared the training yard and left the rest of the men behind them. The archery butts are kept separate, lest any errant arrows cause harm or injury to the swordsmen practicing.

"I wasn't sure if you would allow it." She admits, a faint blush staining her cheeks. He finds it utterly endearing, and resists the urge to brush his knuckles across her heated skin. They have not yet reached that level of comfort with each other, even if they have reached a new understanding.

Realisation dawns at the same time.

"Are you testing me?" He asks his tone a little harsher than usual. For every step forward in progress they made, it seemed they were destined to take two steps backwards. He would not put it past her to see this as a way of testing what sort of limitations he might place on their marriage.

"No." She blurts out, eyes darting to him in alarm. "No of course not. I would genuinely like to learn. From you." She adds as he looks away from her, composing himself.

He had become far too distrustful of those not immediately in his inner circle.

"Forgive me." He says, opening the gate to the archery butts for her. "I am far too used to people playing games with me."

Caroline just gives him a small smile, hand running almost absentmindedly over his arm.

"I've never been one for games."

It becomes immediately apparent that Caroline has never shot a bow and arrow before. Or if she has, whoever had taught her had been a poor tutor.

"Your stance is all wrong." He calls from where he's leaning up against the wall, watching her struggle with the bow. "You need to face side on from the target if you'd like any semblance of accuracy."

He sees her grit her teeth together in frustration, but she refrains from snapping back at him, even if she is frustrated. Arrows were scattered all over the training yard, one buried into the wall beside his head. He's not sure if she'd done it on purpose or not.

"Why don't you show me if you're so good at this then?" She challenges, hand sweeping out towards the line of targets.

He sighs, pushing off from the wall and holding his hand out for the bow. She passes it to him, and he plucks an arrow from the quiver on her back, sighting down the bow, drawing, and releasing in one quick, seamless movement. It was almost second nature for him, the motions familiar, as easy as breathing. He'd always been far more proficient with a bow and arrow than he had with a sword, although his grandfather had insisted that he master both.

The arrow buries itself in the centre of the target, and Caroline gapes towards it in shock.

"I wager you can't do that again." She glances sideways at him, chin jutting out defiantly.

"How about we make this a little more interesting sweetheart?" He muses out loud as her eyes flicker towards him once more.

"What did you have in mind?" She asks a little warily as he slides another arrow from the quiver, tapping it against the side of his leg thoughtfully.

"If I make that mark again, you have to kiss me."

It's out before he can take it back, and her eyes darken for only an instant as her hands ball into fists at her side. The movement only lasts for a split second before she cocks her head sideways, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Fine. But if you miss you'll take me riding in the city."

He huffs out a breath at her request, wanting more than anything to deny her right there on the spot. The city wasn't safe, not until he figured out who the Targaryen loyalists were scribbling graffiti all over the walls.

"We go with guards." He warns her as she nods once, smile growing wider at his words.

"Very well then, we have an accord." She holds her hand out for him, and he grips it briefly before nocking the arrow to the bowstring.

He breathes out as he releases the arrow, and the sound of wood splintering as the arrow splits the previous one in two echoes around the space.

Caroline is staring at the target in a mixture of disbelief and resignation, and turns towards him with a small sigh.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" She directs towards him, taking in the slight smirk on his face.

"Very much so sweetheart." He replies, unstringing the bow and stowing it in her quiver. Her body is held stiff, as if she's waiting to see what he'll do next.

She jumps in surprise when he ducks down suddenly, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"I would never presume to force you into something you were not comfortable doing. I am aware we have not known each other for long." He remarks quietly, sweeping a thumb over her cheekbone, relishing in her blush.

He watches as she wets her lips with her tongue, placing a hand hesitantly on his arm.

"I would not mind, if it were to be more." She murmurs, hand squeezing gently.

He moves slowly, so as not to startle or frighten her. He twines one arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him. He can hear her breath hitch in her throat as he slips one hand into her hair, tilting her chin up towards his face carefully.

Theirs was a shaky ground, and he knew that one wrong move from him would send her running and set their relationship back. It was not something that he wanted. Not now, with her pulse thrumming beneath her skin, the feeling of her so soft and pliant in the circle of his arms.

The first brush of lips is gentle, hesitant as he tries to judge her reaction. Her eyes are squeezed shut but her hands rest open palmed on his chest, fingers curling into his tunic to pull him a little closer.

His next kiss is more insistent, and he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss. Their lips move together for an immeasurable stretch of time, and he relishes the feeling.

It's Caroline that pulls back first, eyes darting towards her feet as she composes herself. She straightens; two bright spots of colour on her cheeks, eyes hazy with _something._ Lust?

Could it be that she was attracted to him, as he was to her?

"Forgive me." He apologises immediately, pulling her mind away from her embarrassment at acting so forward with him. "I did not mean to take advantage."

She stops him with a smile.

"I'm glad that you did."

* * *

Elijah motions for the next petitioner to step forward, and he resists the urge to slump back in the Iron Throne, knowing he'd probably get sliced to ribbons for his troubles. The chair was notoriously uncomfortable, and the sadistic son of a bitch who had forged it probably designed it to be so.

Elijah found some sort of poetic justice in it, with being King an uncomfortable task or something along those lines. Of course, Elijah had no problem with the Iron Throne, sitting on the chair for hours on end like it was the most sumptuous chaise in the palace.

The court is observing today as they usually do, dressed in their best gowns and attire. Certain materials were hard to come by in the Seven Kingdoms, with The Others wiping out most of the skilled population up North that could produce such garments of fine make and cut.

Prices on the market were still exorbitant, and undoubtedly would be for some time to come, until more skilled labourers could be found and the demand lessened.

He listens to the man absentmindedly, Elijah taking notes at his table he sets up on the dais for such occasions. He is glad for it, to have some record of the proceedings.

His eyes roam the crowd, taking in Kol standing up against the wall, his brother's dark gaze watching the crowd carefully.

His eyes land in Caroline, resplendent in a dress of Tyrell green. He sits forward on the Throne, gazing at her thoughtfully. She meets his eyes, a soft smile curling at her lips.

A week had passed since their kiss in the archery butts, and he could not stop thinking about her. Regretfully, he had not had as much to spend with her as he would have liked, and realised that he had not properly taught her how to shoot a bow as he had promised.

He had asked Kol to step in for him, but his younger brother had just laughed before striding off to carry out his inspection of the City Watch.

"Lady Caroline." His voice rings out around the Hall and the crowd immediately falls silent, turning as one to stare at Caroline.

Caroline holds her chin high but steps forward, gown sweeping across the stone floor as she bows her head towards him in deference.

"Your Grace." She allows, dipping into the shallowest of curtsies.

Unbidden, he smiles down at her.

"You will soon be Queen of Westeros. Will you dispense justice upon this man?" He asks, sweeping one hand towards the farmer in question, who was disputing a claim by his neighbour that he was not using his land appropriately.

Caroline's hands twist in her skirts, the only outwards sign that she is taken aback by his question. The rest of the Court waits for her answer with bated breath.

"I would not presume to know more than you when it comes to matters of justice Your Grace." She finally answers respectfully. He stands, vacating the Iron Throne and holding out a hand for her.

She juts her chin out, taking his hand and allowing him to guide her up the dais steps. Elijah is staring at him wide eyed as he settles Caroline on the Iron Throne.

She looks awed if not a little overwhelmed, one of her hands running gently over the seat of the throne as she looks out over the crowd.

The petitioner bows to her respectfully.

"Lady Tyrell. Will you hear my case?" The man asks, voice quavering only slightly.

"I will." She promises in return, glancing hesitantly up at him as he nods in encouragement.

The petitioner repeats himself for Caroline's benefit, Elijah's quill poised over parchment should he need to take additional annotations.

"Would you say that you are not farming your land appropriately because you do not have the crop to do so?" She asks softly as the man nods vigorously, cap pressed to his chest.

"Yes my lady. The land is not as fertile as my neighbours. It will only take certain crops. I have tried before and have yielded poor results. Please lady, I will try again if you let me keep the land."

"I will let you keep the land." Caroline returns with a kind smile. "In addition you will inform The Hand as to what seeds you think will take to the soil. We will supply you with a starting crop and will check in soon to see that you are using these seeds."

The man bows, relief writ plain across his features.

"Thank you Lady Tyrell. I will not forget your generosity. You are always welcome on my land should you choose to visit." The man bows again before making his way towards Elijah, who engages the man in a hurried conversation.

He holds out a hand for Caroline, who accepts it gratefully and stands a little unsteadily.

"How did I do?" She asks in a whisper as the crowd breaks into murmurs.

"Wonderfully." He replies, giving her a quick smile and pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "The man will not forget your generosity, and he will be sure to tell his neighbours what a benevolent ruler you are. You earned his respect."

"Would you have made the same decision?" She asks curiously, head tilted towards his, aware of the eyes of the crowd fixed upon her.

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Is all he says in reply before seating himself on the Iron Throne once more.

She inclines her head towards him, picking up on his silent dismissal. He catches her by the hand as she turns to go.

"Will you ride out with me tomorrow?"

Her smile is like the sun.

"Yes, I would like that."

* * *

 **AN: Klaus and Caroline finally come to an understanding, and are willing to put away the animosity previously held between their two families.**

 **Also thankyou to everyone who voted for this in the Klaroline Awards. Unfortunately I didn't win, but still appreciate your love and support.**

 **Until next time xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

Elijah was not present at breakfast. That in and of itself was strange enough, because Elijah had to be practically dying to miss a meal, let alone making his presence known as Hand throughout the Court.

Elijah was respected and feared, and a part of him thinks Elijah likes it that way. What better way to maintain authority in a court full of whispers and lies?

He spoons broth into his mouth one handed, Kol sitting next to him with his feet propped up on the table and cleaning his fingernails with one of the many daggers he manages to hide on his body.

He imagines it would both shock and horrify the women Kol bedded on a regular basis, the amount of weaponry he keeps on his body.

"Do you really have to do that?" He hisses towards his brother. Kol just lifts his shoulder in a shrug before tucking the dagger back into his sword belt.

"It's not like I have anything else to do, since Elijah assigned me to tail you everywhere you choose to go. God being a King is so boring." Kol huffs out, planting his boots on the ground and reaching across him for a piece of bread.

"I could make you my taster, since you seem to long for danger." He points out as Kol scoffs around his mouthful of bread.

"I am not dying because some disgruntled subject decides he wants to try and off you with poison. Thanks, but no thanks." Kol's eyes sweep around the hall before landing on a pretty brown haired maid, hair hanging loose over her shoulder as she picks at her own breakfast.

"Is that Davina Blackfyre? My, she's becoming a tasty little thing hasn't she?" Kol's lips curl into a smirk as he beholds the eldest Blackfyre daughter, a maid of nine and ten. If he can recall correctly there was a son as well, but he's not been seen at Court for years.

The Blackfyres held a tenuous claim to the throne through a very distant relation who was a Targaryen. Even their house sigil were the Targaryen colours reversed, a black, three headed dragon breathing black fire on had however, given up all of their rights to claim the throne when the Blackfyre Rebellion occurred hundreds of years ago.

He watches as his younger brother leans forward, interest clearly piqued by Davina Blackfyre. In retrospect, tying the Blackfyre family to the Iron Throne through marriage would be the smart thing to do, especially if it were to be Davina. The girl couldn't hurt a fly, let alone be manipulative enough to play the Game of Thrones or have her family move her around the board like a puzzle piece.

Kol though, was not husband material at this point in time, with the way he slept his way through half of the whores in Kings Landing. Kol of course took certain precautions to avoid fathering bastards, and drank tonics that would prevent disease. But Kol was still young, and still very much driven by lust. Kol was not the person that he would trust to seal a marriage as important as this one.

Marrying Rebekah perhaps, to the Blackfyre son would serve, if she could tear herself away from Casterly Rock long enough to come to Court. His younger sister seemed content to run the estate at Lannisport, and had been doing so successfully for a number of years. She also had their youngest brother, Henrik to look after, the boy not yet three and ten.

Should something happen to him, it would be Rebekah that would rule as regent until Henrik came of age.

"Have you seen Elijah this morning?" He directs towards Kol, if only to get his attention away from Davina Blackfyre and back to the situation at hand.

Kol turns back to him, chewing thoughtfully on his bread.

"I haven't actually, which is odd. Perhaps he's having a scandalous affair right under our noses."

This time it's Klaus that snorts, the idea ludicrous in and of itself. Elijah, although deemed to be a handsome man by the women at court very rarely bothered himself with the women.

He had plenty of admirers, and even more who sought a match with him. Given that he was powerful and in a high position at Court he could guarantee whoever he did marry safety and security and enough finery and gold to last for the rest of their lives.

Elijah though, was fully aware of this, and usually brushed off the attention fairly quickly. Klaus had never seen him with a woman, although he knew his brother had lain with a maid before, a Dornish girl called Tatia.

"Are you willing to back that up with a wager?" Klaus asks of his younger brother, who just shrugs again before nodding and getting to his feet.

"A gold dragon if I'm right your grace." Kol bows mockingly. "Let's go and find our brother dearest."

Kol leads him out of the hall and across the courtyard to the Red Keep and the Tower of the Hand, rebuilt after Cersei Lannister had burnt it down in a fit of rage all those years ago.

They pass a number of guards, all of who sketch him a bow as they proceed past them. It's Marcel that catches them, his low laughter echoing around the entrance of the Red Keep.

"Looking for Elijah your grace?" Marcel asks, biting into the apple that he holds in his hand. "I think you'll find him indisposed." The master of whispers pronounces delicately.

Kol looks positively gleeful as he strides towards Marcel, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Bed bound? With a woman?" Kol questions Marcel, who simply smirks and bites into his apple again.

"Looks as if we're going to be swinging by the treasury a little later brother." Kol pronounces with great relish as he bids Marcel farewell and grabs him by the elbow, hurrying up the steps and onto the mezzanine level.

"Perhaps we should come back later if your suspicions have proven to be true." Klaus begins feebly, not really wanting to catch his Hand in flagrante delicto.

"Nonsense brother, how else am I going to prove that I was right?" Kol pounds on the door to Elijah's outer chamber before pushing it open and striding through the door. "Elijah you randy bastard, are you around?" Kol calls, noting the locked door to Elijah's bed chamber.

"Kol stop being ridiculous. We'll come back later." Klaus insists, tugging at the arm of his brother.

Kol always had been stronger than him though, and shakes him off with ease, moving towards the door of the inner chamber and pressing his ear against the wood.

The door swings open and Elijah fills the opening, dressed for the day in a tunic of black cut with gold, Baratheon colours.

"What in seven hells is this racket Kol?" Elijah asks smoothly, adjusting the collar of his tunic minutely.

Kol cranes to see over Elijah's shoulder, as if to catch a glimpse of the mysterious maid in Elijah's chambers. Of that much was obvious, if the tired marks under Elijah's eyes and the love bite just peeking out over his collar was anything to go by.

Klaus doesn't clue Kol in on this though, instead leans against the stone wall of the chamber and crosses his arms over his chest, content to let his younger brother come to the same conclusion as he had.

"Where is she brother? The lovely maid that you bedded last night?" Kol pronounces with relish as Elijah stares him down coolly.

Elijah's expression remains impressively neutral despite Kol's persistence.

"Forgive me Niklaus, for missing our morning meal. Can I offer you some Dornish wine?" Elijah remains as courteous as ever despite being caught out.

He waves away Elijah's offer with a polite smile, Elijah forcibly pushing on Kol's chest to get him to move out of the doorway to Elijah's bed chamber.

"Enough Kol." Klaus remarks sharply, a direct order that Kol will not and cannot ignore.

"Your brother's are trying to settle a wager Elijah." The voice that echoes from the bedchamber is decidedly feminine, and very familiar.

Lady Katerina Tyrell, one of many cousins to Caroline and currently her companion at Court steps out from behind Elijah, levelling a cool gaze at Kol.

"I would appreciate your discretion on this matter my lord." She directs towards Kol, steel in her voice before she turns that calm, dark gaze on him.

"Your Grace." Katerina dips him a curtsey as befitting his station as King before tugging at her skirts and pressing a kiss to Elijah's stubbled cheek.

"Of course." Kol finally manages to bite out, bowing to the back of Katerina's dress as she makes her way out of the chamber and into the hallway with nary a backward glance towards any of them.

Kol finally turns towards both of them, mouth opening and closing like he can barely comprehend what he just witnessed.

"You owe me a dragon brother. And I think I'm going to need at least a skin of wine before I come to terms with what just happened."

Klaus just ignores Kol, turning towards his Hand.

"We'll discuss this later. I hope you know what you're doing."

* * *

The clattering of hooves draws his attention away from the pair of squires he's watching play at swords. As King he needs to select one to squire for him, even though he rarely jousts or participates in melees.

He sees a flash of yellow hair and immediately assumes that it's Caroline out for a ride with one of the many guards that he assigned her, but Caroline very rarely dressed in Lannister red, nor did she ride astride her mount like a man did.

Which could only mean…

"Bekah!" He hears Kol shout from beside him, lifting a hand in greeting as their sister looks about for them. Her smile is radiant as she dismounts from her horse, Kol already moving to wrap Rebekah up in a hug.

Klaus' eyes are already scanning the rest of the men with her sister, searching for Henrik, his little brother, his heir. He is relieved when he cannot spot the familiar head of chestnut brown among the men, and moves to greet his sister.

"Nik you bastard, why didn't you summon me to Court earlier?" Rebekah's tone is teasing and light, but there's a certain bite to her words that has him wincing, even as he picks his sister up off the ground and twirls her around.

"Forgive me Bekah." He replies with, setting her down on the hard packed earth once more. "Come. You must be starving. Elijah is within."

The horses are being led away as he waves his sister towards the castle.

"Is she here?" Rebekah lowers her voice to a mere whisper, looking around the Great Hall as if she's hoping that Caroline would materialise in front of her. "Are you really going to marry a Tyrell then Nik?"

"Really." He confirms for Rebekah, leading her into his solar and pulling out a seat for her. "I'm not quite sure where she is. Kol are you aware of where Caroline has gone today?"

Kol just shrugs, already helping himself to the flagon of wine set out for their lunch.

Rebekah just turns an incredulous gaze on him.

"Really Nik? She could be halfway back to bloody Highgarden by now and you'd be none the wiser!"

"No need for dramatics sister. My betrothed and I are getting along just fine. Now come, sit, eat. And tell me how Henrik is faring."

Rebekah is seemingly distracted enough by his request, and Kol pours her out a wine.

He makes a mental note to go and find Caroline later, at the very least to forewarn her of his sister's inquisitiveness.

* * *

With the hot summer days comes the summer storms at night, and he just makes it to the shelter of an overhang before the heavens open and the rain falls down in sheets.

The pavement hisses, cold rain striking against hot brick, steam rising eerily from the ground and turning the yard into something out of a mummers tale or a song.

In the next moment he spots Caroline splashing across the yard, sky blue dress muddied around the hem, hair plastered to her neck and face. His hand flies out to grip her as she goes to step around him, head down and looking at the ground.

Her eyes fly to his, a surprised gasp coming from her lips before she relaxes and lets out the breath she'd been holding in.

"Forgive me for frightening you Caroline." He manages to get out, trying not to let his gaze dip towards her neckline, the thin fabric of her gown outlining her chest.

"Klaus." She gasps out, eyes darting down to where his hand is still wrapped loosely around her wrist.

"You're soaked through. Let me take you back to your chambers, you should get into something warm before you catch a chill."

Caroline shakes her head, teeth practically chattering as she looks out into the storm, the distance she would have to cross to reach her chambers clear on the other side of the keep.

Klaus just sighs, running a hand through his hair and offering her his arm.

"Come on then sweetheart. I'll take you to mine and get you warmed up."

Elijah wouldn't be pleased, but what Elijah doesn't know won't hurt him. And Kol could never find out that he had Caroline in his chambers unsupervised before their wedding, or he'd never hear the end of it.

The hallways are empty, and Caroline's hand is cold where it rests in the crook of his elbow. He can hear the water dripping from her dress, feel her tremble with each draught of air that whistles through the stone corridor.

Already the temperature is dropping, and he ushers Caroline quickly into his chambers before a servant can see.

"Come on love, lets get you out of these wet clothes." He remarks quietly once they're safely ensconced in his bedchamber.

Caroline smiles up at him teasingly.

"Are you trying to seduce me Klaus?" Her tone is playful, and his smile is fond.

"Only a little. But my need for you to be warm and dry wins out over my plans for seduction this evening love."

"Such chivalry." Caroline declares as she turns her back on him. "The laces start at the top. Would you mind?" She asks, her tone innocent.

He swallows, mouth dry as he begins plucking at the laces that hold her gown together at the back. His thumb brushes against a bit of exposed skin, and he doesn't miss the full body shiver, one of a different kind.

Once he's loosened the gown enough Caroline turns, holding the fabric to cover her chest.

"Would you mind lending me something to wear? Somehow I don't think I'll find a gown in here."

"Right of course." He says to himself, stepping past her to his armoire, hearing the slap of wet fabric against the floor of his chambers. He does his best not to turn around, not sure how tempted he'll be by the sight of Caroline clad only in smallclothes, only a step or two away from his bed.

It would be so easy, for the two of them to fall into bed, to get lost in each other. He swallows again, hands landing on a white linen shirt that Rebekah had sewn for him years ago. It was too small for him, but perhaps it would serve for Caroline until her dress could dry out over the fire.

He pointedly looks away from her when he hands her the shirt, and pulls the fabric over her head before shedding her smallclothes, carrying both over to a chair before the fire and draping them over the wooden back.

He can see every inch of her under that shirt, and he's already half hard at the sight of her outlined by the flames, hair drying in curls around her face.

"Are you going to stand there all night then?" Caroline says quietly, finally turning back towards him, eyes dark in the dying light.

"Standing here prevents me from doing less… savory things." Klaus pronounces, unbuckling his sword belt and resting it on the desk he usually signs documents on, when he's looking to escape from the rest of the world.

Caroline's eyes follow his movements as he reaches up to unlace his black leather jerkin.

"Like what?" She finally asks, her voice hoarse and skin flushed.

Klaus smiles to himself as he shrugs off his jerkin, draping it over his own chair as he pulls his shirt over his head.

"Like taking you into my arms and kissing you until your toes curl. Pressing you down onto that bed and tasting every inch of your skin with my lips." He delivers the words nonchalantly, looking for her reaction.

Caroline arches an eyebrow, closing the distance between them, fingers reaching out to trace the puckered skin on his ribs where he'd taken an arrow trying to put down a rebellion in the Riverlands. The arrowhead had slipped beneath a gap in his armour, very nearly killing him. Since then he wore a stiff leather jerkin beneath his plate of mail.

And then Caroline's hands grip his shoulders, her lips brushing over his. Her kiss is gentle, not unlike the one they'd shared a few days ago, in the archery butts. But this time it's Caroline that deepens their embrace, and he finally allows himself what he's been denying, hands gripping her waist tightly as he lifts her, seating her on the edge of her bed, pushing her to lay down on the featherbed even as he kneels over her.

Caroline pulls away, biting her lip hesitantly as she looks up at him.

"Klaus I have to confess." She begins with a whisper, fingers rubbing circles into the skin of his chest. "Klaus you would not be my first."

He stiffens above her for the moment, letting the words sink in as he stares down at the girl he is to marry.

This was… unexpected. Elijah would be less than pleased, his Hand a strangely traditional man despite the amount of rebuilding they had done together throughout the kingdoms.

Less stock was put in the value of a woman's maidenhead in these times, but he knew that those from large families still liked their daughters to be pure. He highly doubted that William Tyrell knew about this.

"You do not have a child of your blood?" He asks quietly, fingers skimming the hem of his shirt where it sits on her mid thigh.

"No I don't. It happened when I was younger and a lot more foolish than I am now. Are you going to tell the Lord Baratheon?" Caroline asks quietly, even as he props himself up on his side next to her, mood abruptly killed with her soft pronouncement. It was probably for the better.

"Do you wish to be released from this betrothal?" He asks a little sharply, even as she moves to a sitting position, his shirt slipping off one shoulder, exposing her creamy, white skin.

"No of course not." She replies immediately, trying to reassure him. "I only meant I don't think he'll be pleased if he finds out."

He grips one of her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

"It is not my concern who you may have lain with before you came to me any more than it is Elijah's. You have my word he will not find out from me."

Caroline lets out a sigh, body relaxing at his words.

"Thankyou Klaus." She says with a sleepy smile. "Do you mind if I spend the night here?"

He doesn't answer her, instead pulling back the coverlet and tucking it around her once she had slipped underneath it.

As tempting as it is to shed his boots and breeches and join her under the coverlet, he does have work to do before he can retire.

"Come to bed Klaus." Caroline murmurs, already half asleep, hand reaching out across the coverlet for him.

Instead he bends down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Alas I have work to do before I can retire. Sleep little love. I will still want to wed you when the morning comes."

Caroline's gentle smile across her lips is enough to well and truly distract him from any work he had planned on doing that evening.

And so sick of fighting fate, he falls asleep in the same bed as her, arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

And a part of him thinks he could get used to this.

* * *

 **AN: Hey guys! This one is way overdue, I know, and I'm sorry! I know how much you all love this universe as much as I do.**

 **As a side note, how gorgeous is the cover that Nicole, (Romanoffsbite) made me on Tumblr? Go and check it out if you haven't already seen it, she's very talented!**

 **I will endeavor to not leave so long between updates in the future. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

The sunlight slanting through the window is what pulls him from sleep, and for a moment he has the oddest sensation of not knowing exactly where he is.

His arm is curled around another warm body, his head tucked against their shoulder.

It hits him suddenly, once he sees those golden curls spilling out across his pillow. He'd fallen asleep last night with Caroline in his bed, and somehow they'd shifted throughout the night to their current position.

He can't help but replay their conversation in their mind. Caroline, kissing him willingly, making the first move. Her confession that she was not a maid, that he would not be the first she lay with.

He moves away from her slowly to avoid embarrassing her, surprised that she's still here, that she hasn't snuck out of her chambers to make herself more presentable in order to face the day. Once he's extricated himself from her he plants his feet on the floor and heads towards the outer chamber.

His manservant is waiting patiently, seated against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He jumps to attention as soon as he spots him.

"Morning. Would you mind fetching Lady Caroline's companion? Katerina Tyrell." Klaus supplies the name with a sheepish smile. "Tell her to bring a fresh gown for the Lady."

His manservant's eyebrows rise at this pronouncement, but he refrains from commenting. It would not be his place.

The best thing he could do under the circumstances is to ensure that Caroline makes it back to her own chambers before the rest of the castle starts to rise.

His manservant had been thoughtful enough to leave out his clothes for the day for him, and he grabs the pile before heading back towards the inner chamber, taking care not to wake Caroline.

It's with quick practiced movements that he pulls on his shirt and tunic, the borders edged in Lannister gold. Breeches and boots complete his ensemble for the day, and he's just finished lacing the last one when he sees Caroline stir beneath the sheets.

He stands, moving to crouch beside where she's sleeping, reaching out and shaking her gently to get her to wake.

"Caroline." He begins gently, as her eyes flutter open. "Wake up love."

Caroline's face splits into a smile when she spots him, and her hand reaches out to cup his cheek.

"Good morning." She whispers, tongue darting out to wet her lips. He wants nothing more than to get back into bed with her, pull her into his arms, and stay there for the rest of the day, but he has other things to do, and duty calls as always.

He could not wait to be wed to her, if this is the sight that will greet him every morning.

"It is." He confirms with a gentle smile. "And as much as I would love to stay, I have things to do today. Duty calls, it would seem."

"Mmm." Caroline hums, leaning over the bed to press a kiss to his cheek. "I should probably get ready to face the day as well."

"Katherine is on her way." He promises, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. "Make yourself at home. All of this will be yours soon enough."

Caroline gives him a sleepy smile, nestling her head against the pillow and closing her eyes once more. He takes that as a silent dismissal and finally gets to his feet.

"Have lunch with me." Caroline murmurs as he pauses on the threshold between his chambers. He looks back over his shoulder and nods once.

"I'll talk to you later sweetheart."

* * *

The morning passes without event, and he's hard pressed to find himself able to concentrate, his mind filled with thoughts of her.

"Are we boring you Your Grace?" Elijah's voice pulls him out of his distracted musings, and he finally meets his brother's gaze head on.

"Not at all Elijah. Forgive me, I was somewhere else for a moment there."

Marcel just gives him a smirk, and he has no doubt that his master of whispers knew exactly who had been in his chambers the previous night and this morning. He shakes his head silently, a warning for Marcel to not say anything further, lest Elijah have a conniption about his impropriety.

Not that Elijah had a leg to stand on of course, but you never could be too careful about these sorts of things.

Elijah just sighs, pulling the many pieces of parchment towards him.

"How about we stop and come back to this in the afternoon? I see no reason why this couldn't wait for a time when we are all more focused." Elijah voices as Klaus practically sighs with relief.

He stands, signalling the meeting to be over for now.

"If you insist Elijah, I'm not going to stop you. I daresay we'll all be in a better frame of mind after a hearty meal. Besides, I have a date to keep." He throws a wicked grin in Marcel's direction before grabbing his cloak and throwing it around his shoulders.

Kol just lets out an exasperated sigh before falling into step behind him, tailing him, as always.

The light of the sun is bright when he steps outside, and he has to shield his eyes and squint for a moment or two before his surroundings become apparent.

It takes next to no time for Kol to wave down a servant, asking after the Lady Caroline Tyrell. They're directed towards the Sea Gardens, a beautiful vista of native Westerosian plants overlooking the ocean. It happens to be a favourite spot of his, and he's wiled away many an afternoon running through problems or conundrums that he'd had to solve.

His footsteps trace the path automatically, and soon enough he can hear the sound of laughter. It has him smiling as he quickens his pace, already wanting to be back in her presence, even if it is only for a brief snatch of time.

It's Kol's sharp intake of breath that has him pulling up short and trying not to read too much into the scene that's unfolding before his very eyes.

Caroline is standing near the stone wall that overlooks the sea, her back to him, her golden hair tied back tightly in a single braid.

But she's not alone. A man stands next to her, his arm wrapped familiarly around her waist, his other hand reaching out to caress her cheek. What's worse is the fact that Caroline laughs again and leans into him.

"Klaus it's probably not what it looks like…" Kol murmurs softly as he clenches his fists, before turning on his heel.

"I knew I couldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. She is a Tyrell after all." Klaus spits as he turns on his heel, striding off towards the castle, Kol hastening to keep pace with him.

"Nik, come on. You know that you jump to conclusions far too easily." Kol's hand is on the pommel of his sword, and although he doesn't reach out to touch him, Klaus knows that he's seriously considering it.

He stops short before one of the side entrances of the castle, and the two guards on the door try their utmost to look like they're not about to overhear every word of the conversation to come.

"I don't know about you Kol, but that scene looked rather cosy to me." He hisses, purposefully keeping his voice low.

Kol just sighs, running a hand through his messy brown hair.

"I just think you should talk to her before you do anything… rash." Kol pronounces delicately.

"I will not be talking to her, but I will be talking to Elijah."

Kol tips his head back and laughs.

"And you think that Elijah will let you renege on your engagement? Because of something that you think you saw? I hate to break it to you Nik, but this is about more than you and your bruised ego. You know as well as I do that the kingdom is unstable, and that taking a Tyrell for a wife will help rectify the situation."

Klaus takes another step towards the palace, before turning back to Kol, who has an expectant look on his face.

"Fine. But I want you to find out who the boy is, and I want him brought before me before sundown."

Kol just nods, a resigned look on his face.

* * *

Kol, as efficient as ever, makes good on his promise, and brings the boy to him just as the sun is beginning to set. He's in his solar, taking care of some last minute laws that he needs to sign and hand back to Elijah to implement when the knock comes on the door.

"Come." He calls, looking up from his parchment, quill paused over the paper.

Kol pokes his head around the door, eyes landing on him immediately.

"As requested your grace." Kol remarks, sweeping him a mocking bow before opening the door wider.

He refrains from rising to Kol's bait, instead returning his quill to the ink pot and leaning back in his chair, eyes roving over the man who is shown into his solar.

Kol shuts the door behind them both, and suddenly they're alone, the silence deafening. He doesn't ask the other man to sit.

"What is your name?" Klaus begins pleasantly enough, wondering just how much information he can dig out of this man before things turn unpleasant.

The man gives him an odd smile.

"Tyler Blackfyre your Grace. The Lady Davina is my younger sister."

"I see." Klaus replies, pressing his lips together for a moment. "And now you have come to court as well. What brings you to Kings Landing?"

Tyler shrugs, the entire gesture impolite.

"My sister mainly Your Grace. But I heard that you and the Lady Caroline were betrothed, and saw fit to come and convey my well wishes for your union."

"It seems that your familiarity earlier today conveyed that well enough." He remarks, perhaps a little to sharply, if the smirk on Tyler Blackfyre's face is anything to go by.

"It bothers you doesn't it? Our closeness." Tyler pronounces with relish. He doesn't respond to the other man, his hands biting into the wood of the table beneath him.

"It is the Lady Caroline's prerogative who she chooses to surround herself with. If that includes old childhood friends then so be it."

Tyler actually laughs at that, leaning in to the table. Unbidden, Klaus' hand twitches towards his dagger, the movement invisible to Tyler.

"Oh I think you'll find that we're a little more than 'childhood friends' your Grace. You see, Caroline and I grew up together. And when she finally began her moon's blood who do you think was there to be her first? Or did she not tell you that? That might impede your marriage."

It takes every fibre of statecraft that he possesses in his body to keep his expression neutral, even bored. Even if he's in turmoil.

"On the contrary, Caroline has already discussed this with me, so your attempts to catch me off guard although admirable, are seemingly pointless all things considered."

Tyler does look surprised by this, and Klaus refrains from giving Tyler a smirk of his own. Tyler doesn't have to know that he's only been fed a half truth, that although Caroline had mentioned that he wasn't her first, she hadn't bothered to mention who had been.

The fact that it's this boy infuriates him.

"Why am I here your Grace? Do you need advice? Because I can give you plenty about Caroline."

In one quick moment he had stood, pushing back his chair, closing the distance between himself and Tyler, wrapping a hand around the other man's throat and slamming him into the wall.

"If you want to keep your tongue you'll stop talking _now._ _"_ He growls at Tyler, who looks surprised by his sudden change in temperament. "And you will show her the respect that she deserves, as your future Queen."

He releases his grip on Tyler suddenly, the younger man gasping out a breath as he massages his own throat.

"She will resent you for this. For your jealousy. Mark my words." Tyler wheezes, straightening up to his full height.

"I'm not going to ask you to leave her alone, because as you mentioned, the two of you are old friends. But for pity's sake boy, show some propriety. She is betrothed to me, and when the sun rises tomorrow she will remain betrothed to me still. Nothing you do is ever going to change that. Do you understand?"

Tyler gives him a curt nod, sketching the shallowest of bows.

"Yes Your Grace."

* * *

The pounding on his door comes some time later, and he swings himself out of bed he has a very good idea as to who it might be.

He crosses his ante chamber, steeling himself for the conversation to come before swinging open the door, stepping out of the way before a very angry Caroline Tyrell threatens to knock him off his feet.

If that wasn't a messed up metaphor for their strange betrothal he didn't know what was.

She's not yet dressed for bed, still wearing the same lavender gown she'd been wearing earlier in the day. He can't help but catch the appreciative glance she gives his chest before her features settle into an angry glare.

"How. Dare. You." She spits out between gritted teeth as he closes the heavy door and flips the lock.

When he turns back to her, arms crossed over his chest, she's practically bristling with anger.

"How dare I what?" He asks neutrally, trying not to do anything that will anger her further, recognising that their relationship is dangling on the edge of a knife.

"You summoned Tyler before you like he was no more than a common servant, and then treated him like he was the dirt beneath your boot." Caroline seethes, moving closer to him, reaching out to push him.

"He is the dirt beneath my boot love. Why you would associate with the likes of him is beyond me."

That was the apparently the wrong answer, if the sharp crack of Caroline's palm across his cheek was anything to go by. He regrets his words immediately, wanting nothing more than to take them back, to wipe he disappointed expression from Caroline's face.

Caroline raises her hand to strike him again and he catches it, pulling her closer to him, eyes blazing.

Caroline juts her chin out defiantly, her expression undoubtedly mirroring his.

"I saw the two of you earlier in the garden, and saw fit to give him a lesson in propriety. The way he was with you, with his hand on your waist and on your cheek…" He trails off as Caroline takes a step back from him. "You deserve far better than that sweetheart, and you know it as well as I do."

"You saw that?" She whispers, tongue darting out to wet her lips. His cheek smarts, and he knows that he'll have the imprint of a palm print there for some time tomorrow.

Elijah was probably going to murder him.

"I saw enough." He pronounces, turning back to the door and unlocking it, an unspoken signal for her to leave him.

She ignores it.

"If you'd stayed for a few moments longer, you would have seen me push him away. Tyler is a _friend_ Klaus. An old friend." Caroline pleads with him, and he wants to forget that all of this ever happened, but he couldn't.

He has a reputation to protect, and a kingdom to rule, and he will not be cuckolded by a woman who isn't even his wife.

"Yes he made it very clear what sort of friendship the two of you had when we discussed his impropriety this afternoon. He also neglected to mention that I did not warn him off you it would seem." He tells Caroline gently, as she lets out a wearied sigh.

"Klaus- I."

"I'm not having this discussion with you now Lady Tyrell." He replies a little sharply. "Perhaps when both of us have tempered our anger we can pick up where we left off. But for now I am tired, and I have a long day tomorrow, and I would very much like you to leave before I say something that I will regret come the morn."

Caroline looks shocked by how the conversation had unfolded so rapidly, the fact that he was telling her to leave.

"I'm sorry Klaus." She says softly, hand reaching out to grip his oh so briefly. He lets her before pulling open the door. "I acted and spoke rashly."

"So did I." He allows, because it was the truth, through and through. Both of them had been hot headed about this, and both of them owed the other an apology.

"Can we spend some time together tomorrow?" She pauses on the threshold of the door, blue eyes blinking back at him as he bends down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Yes, of course."

The note comes in the morning, someone having slid it under his door at some point through the night.

He's still half asleep when he picks it up and flips it open, the seal one that is not familiar to him, one that he's never seen before. In fact there is no seal, no imprint that usually tells him who is writing to him.

It's with a frown that he breaks the seal, unfolding the piece of paper and holding it closer so he can see the stark, black ink scrawled clumsily across the parchment.

It's with a sharp intake of breath that he reads the words that had haunted him so incessantly these past few days.

THE DRAGON WILL RISE AGAIN.

* * *

 **A/N: And here we go with the latest chapter! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this, but I finally have a way of wrapping up this story without it turning into a super long multi chapter, which never was my intention.**

 **Ah our couple. Just when things are going well for them, something else comes along to throw a spanner in the works. We'll see them work through their issues in the next chapter.**

 **We will also discover who this mysterious 'dragon' is, who is trying to cause trouble for Klaus.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this, apologies for the angst! It will get better, I promise :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or it's characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

Rebekah sweeps into his Solar where he's privately taking breakfast and seats herself opposite him at the table with very little fuss.

She looks as fierce as a lioness in a gown of scarlet brocade, the sumptuous material betraying her station as head of a household in a very prosperous part of the kingdom, as a force to be reckoned with from the most powerful family in the land.

He pauses, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Can I help you, sister?" He asks patiently, knowing what this was already going to be about. Rebekah always had been bad at masking her body language, it was why she chose not to remain at Court for extended periods of time, why she preferred to take care of Henrik and keep the heir safe at Casterly Rock.

"Nik, we have to talk about this girl." Rebekah leans forward, pouring herself a goblet of fresh juice, made from summer fruits from Dorne.

"Okay. Talk." He replies somewhat amusedly, taking a sip of his own juice as he scans a document prepared for him by Elijah.

"Nik, I don't know about uniting our house with The Tyrell's. They always have been very self serving would you not agree?"

"The same could be said for our own house, sister." He points out. "Or for any other house."

Rebekah scowls, and he has to stop himself from smiling at the sight, so reminiscent of the moments in his childhood where he had been met with the very same expression.

"I don't understand why you're so amenable to this Nik. You know what that family is capable of, what they did during a time when the kingdom needed them the most."

With a sigh, he puts down the parchment and turns his gaze on Rebekah.

"I do. And I know that it is unfair to judge William and Caroline Tyrell for the actions of their ancestors. You forget that our family has also done things that neither you nor I are particularly proud of."

Rebekah looks frustrated by his response, fingers tapping against the fine wood of the table.

"Nik surely there's somebody more suitable than Caroline Tyrell."

"Have you even spoke to her yet Bekah?" He asks patiently, even as Rebekah rolls her eyes.

"Oh please Nik, do you seriously think that I'm going to be surprised by her? She's a Tyrell and I'll have to call her my good sister after next week. Forgive me for not being particularly thrilled by this prospect."

He leans forward in his seat, fixing his gaze upon his younger sister. He always did have a lot of respect and admiration for Bekah, and it was this respect that had allowed her to grow up through her adolescent years without worrying about marriage or finding a suitable match for her, when she should have married and bore children years before.

But even her could recognise that Rebekah was both hot headed and rash when it came to her manner of speaking, and it had gotten her into trouble more than once.

"Bekah. You are blessed to be in a position where I have not yet forced you to find a husband, and have allowed you the independence to run Casterly Rock on your own. You belong to the Lannister family just as much as Henrik or I do."

He pauses, choosing his next words carefully, wondering just how much to reveal to his sister, whether she would even understand.

"I may be a Lannister, but as the King, I belong to the six kingdoms. Sometimes, I must sacrifice my own wishes and desires to ensure the continuing prosperity of these lands. If that means marrying a Tyrell, then that is a sacrifice that I'm willing to make." He explains in neutral tones.

Rebekah frowns, sipping again at her juice.

"You shouldn't have to give up your happiness Nik. Even if it is for the greater good."

It's with a sigh that he stands, bending down to push some stray hair back from Rebekah's forehead.

"If it means the kingdoms will not fall into disrepair, I will give up my happiness. But in this instance I don't believe that I am. Speak to her, please sister. She's not going anywhere if I have any say in the matter at all."

Rebekah finally smiles, and it lights up her whole face.

"You love her?" She questions tremulously, as if she can't quite believe what she's hearing.

"Not yet." He tells her gently. "But in time, perhaps."

"I'm glad." Rebekah admits.

She pauses then, biting her lip.

"Even if she is a Tyrell."

But there's a teasing edge to Rebekah's voice, rather than the outright disdain that she'd displayed earlier in their conversation.

And he can't help but think that perhaps he has swayed Rebekah over to his side, as much as his little sister had railed against the very idea.

"Come, sister. Kol has been dying to spend time with you."

Rebekah tucks her hand into the crook of his arm as together they sweep from his solar, and honestly it's like she never even left.

* * *

He pauses at the stable door, not wishing to disturb the scene in front of him. Caroline is dressed in a riding gown of deep emerald green, her hair weaved together in some sort of complicated braid.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about what he's seeing however, is the fact that Caroline has a curry comb in her hand, and is gently brushing out the coat to the horse he had gifted her what seems like eons ago.

There's a soft smile on her face and she seems lost in her task, unaware of the world around her as she concentrates on the task at hand.

Sunlight spills through the open door behind him, bathing her in a soft glow as she murmurs something to the horse in a low voice.

To his surprise, and perhaps her if the expression on her face is anything to go by, the horse nickers in response, tail flicking as it shifts slightly.

She looks beautiful like this, like innocence personified. There's no mask for her to hide behind, no one she has to hide her feelings from in Court.

He begins to suspect that this is a rare occasion, being able to see Caroline like this.

"It would seem you're a natural, love." He calls softly, not wishing to startle either her, or the horse. It wouldn't do for her to get a hoof to the leg, knows how painful such an injury can be.

Caroline stiffens for only a moment before turning to face him.

"Good morning." She acknowledges him with a soft smile. "Honestly, I'm not sure I quite know what I'm doing."

He smiles, stepping towards her carefully, aware that they're still on shaky ground after their altercation last night. To his surprise she reaches out a hand, smoothing it over his cheek carefully.

She looks embarrassed, and a little ashamed of her actions the previous evening, when she'd slapped him across the face for his own arrogance. Had it been anyone else that had laid an open hand on him they would have been hauled off in irons and spent the night in the dungeons.

"Forgive me. I should never have raised a hand against you. I'm not sure what came over me and I'm embarrassed at my behaviour." Caroline admits out loud. "I do not wish for you to see me as abusive, and it will never happen again, you have my word."

He catches her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"Let us put it behind us. Move forward." He suggests, even as she blushes, nodding once in agreement.

"I would like that." She whispers quietly, jumping when his fingers curl around her wrist, guiding the hand holding the curry brush back toward the horses coat.

"Here." He supplies, moving to stand behind her, showing her the correct way to brush out the coat, how to be gentle with the horse. "Like this."

He feels Caroline lean back into him, resting her head against his chest as they fall into a rhythm, carefully moving around the horse as they continue their task together. The warmth emanating from her is comforting, and he doesn't miss the slight blush on her cheek as she finally drops the comb.

She lets him talk her through the rest of the steps, watching him as he throws the saddle blanket on, and then the saddle, adjusting the buckles and straps until it's a correct fit for the horse.

A part of him realises that he could very much be enabling her should she want to escape this place, but things are going well between them and right now he can't bring himself to care.

* * *

"Tell me about Highgarden." He says suddenly, question spilling from his lips before he can contain it. It had struck him over the past few days, just how very far from home Caroline must have felt, along with the knowledge that she would likely not return there for some time, if ever.

Surely, she must have some fond memories of the place, and he was interested to learn more about where she grew up.

"Have you ever been?" Her soft voice asks curiously, even as she turns her head to face him, still splayed out on the large rug that he had thought to bring. He is grateful for it now, even if it is to protect them from the dew still clinging to the ground.

"Never." He replies immediately. "My house and yours never really have gotten along well enough for a polite house visit."

"Well it's quite large. Almost as large as your own castle at Kings Landing." She begins, a small smile tugging at her lips. "And it's so green. There are gardens and arbors, pools and fountains. Ivy climbs all over the older buildings, and in the spring the flowers bloom everywhere, and it smells like roses."

"It sounds beautiful." He admits to her. "Like it was a nice place to grow up in."

"It was a prison." Caroline states matter of factly. "From the top of the towers you could see for leagues in every direction, across meadows and orchards and fields of flowers. But I was never allowed outside of the walls of the castle, not without a retinue of men to guard me. My father never did allow me the freedom I most desperately desired."

Klaus falls silent at that, unsure as to how to respond, knowing that the tone of the conversation has changed. Did she believe that she had traded one prison for another? Did she feel as trapped here in Kings Landing as she had in Highgarden?

"And what of Casterly Rock? You spent your childhood there did you not? I admit, I've never visited. As you said, our families never have been able to get along amiably before now."

Caroline seems determined to steer the conversation away from Highgarden, and he is no less eager to do so himself.

"Well The Rock is nothing like the beauty you described that Highgarden seems to possess. It's a fortress, a stone castle perched upon a colossal rock overlooking the Sunset Sea. You mentioned that Highgarden smells of flowers. Casterly Rock smells of salt, and of the sea. There wasn't much to entertain, and my sister and I had to find our own amusements. Until I was brought to Kings Landing by my grandfather of course, and taught the art of statecraft."

"Your sister rules over Casterly Rock?" Caroline asks incredulously, perhaps unused to hearing of a women in such a powerful position.

"Of course she does, she's the best person for the job. It's done nothing but prosper under her leadership, and I have no reason to hand the job to another if she is doing so well."

Caroline frowns at that, trying to puzzle through her next question.

"And your sister, Rebekah. She is married?"

"Not at all love." He remarks amusedly, curling his finger around a lock of her hair and tugging playfully. "I never forced her to do something that she didn't want to do, and marriage never has been one of Bekah's end goals."

"How remarkable." Caroline finally replies faintly, even as he chuckles.

"Don't be intimidated sweetheart. Rebekah might be a force to be reckoned with, but you're both accomplished in different ways. I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine."

Caroline pauses, hand toying with her braid, strands of hair slipping through her finger.

"You're not what I expected." Caroline finally admits, and he turns to face her, interested in hearing what she has to say.

"What did you expect?" He asks gently, reaching out tuck some flyaway hair behind her ear. Caroline dips her head, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye with a small smile.

"When my father received a proposal of marriage for me, I contemplated leaving Highgarden. Getting on a horse and riding as fast and as far as I can. I think I had convinced myself that I would be trading one prison for another, if I were to make it to Kings Landing."

He breathes out but says nothing, letting her continue.

"My grandmother used to tell me stories about your family. About what they were capable of. Being married to you, being your Queen… The very idea frightened me."

Caroline lets out a nervous laugh, plucking a blade of grass from the ground in front of her and twirling it between her fingers.

"I expected you to be cold, and cruel, and ruthless. Just like some of your ancestors had been. It was what your family were known for, throughout the six kingdoms. I was… surprised. When I met you."

"And now?" He asks, hoping more than anything that she can't hear the desperation bleeding into his tone, how desperately he wishes that her mind has been changed.

"Being a Queen still frightens me. But I want to be with you."

Their lips meet in the next few seconds, their kiss gentle, conciliatory, washing away all of the hurt and the cruel words between them. It's nothing like the heated interactions of the other night in his chamber, and as he slips a hand through her hair, he can't help but think he could get used to this.

Caroline practically crawls into his lap, deepening their embrace, and he is both surprised and delighted by her boldness. With his hands bracketing her hips he lays them back on the rug, her body pressing him down into the material.

From this position he can see her breasts straining against the fabric of her gown as she breathes in, and he wants nothing more than to rip the fabric from her and make her feel good, taste her on his lips, hear his name on the tip of her tongue.

There is no one here save for them, and he relishes the sound of her sharp gasp, breath fanning out over his cheek as he presses his hips into hers.

"Klaus, we shouldn't." She concedes, resting her forehead against his cheek, breath coming out in short gasps. "We should wait… until the wedding. Lest we anger your brother."

He rolls them, pressing her down into the fine fabric. She paints a glorious picture, two high spots of colour on her cheek, eyes hazy with lust, pink lips bitten and swollen.

"I would rather not talk about my brother right now." He tells her, bending down to press a hot, open mouthed kiss at the column of her throat. "But very well love. There is something else that I need to talk to you about."

He raises himself to a sitting position, leaning up against the trunk of the tree that they'd been sprawled under for the better part of the day.

"Why do you look concerned?" She asks perceptively, rearranging her skirts and propping herself up on her elbows.

"Because it's something that concerns more than just me." He tells her honestly, as she cocks her head and stares at him.

"Okay. Tell me." She commands, and for a second she looks every inch the queen that she is destined to become.

"Someone is trying to depose me." He finally admits out loud, and it feels like a weight off his shoulders. Only a select few people knew about what he was currently experiencing, and it felt good to let someone in on the secret. "Someone with links to the Targaryen family."

Caroline frowns, and he can almost guess what she'll say next.

"I thought the Targaryen line died out with Daenery's during the War for the Dawn? Surely there aren't any citizens remaining in Westeros that have a strong enough claim to the throne?"

He shrugs.

"I don't know the motivation. People never do seem satisfied with the idea of peace. There's always going to be one faction that is unhappy with the way that things are done, that think they can do things better. It's how history usually goes." He tells her, watching as she nods along in agreement.

"Do you have a theory as to who might be behind all of this? The graffiti in the street? The dragon rising again?" Caroline asks as he glances at her incredulously. "Oh come on Klaus, I'm not a simpleton. I knew that something was bothering you and decided to ask Kol about it. He was surprisingly forthcoming after a while."

"Kol never could keep his mouth shut." He replies with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I have my suspicions but I'm afraid you're not going to like it sweetheart."

"You think it has something to do with Tyler." Caroline supplies, a disappointed look on her face. "Klaus if this is some suppressed jealousy thing, I already told you that you don't have anything to worry about."

He reaches out and takes her hand, squeezing it gently.

"It's not about that. And it may be that he might not be the one solely behind the recent unrest. But he's a Blackfyre, and even if he isn't a full Targaryen by blood he still carries some of the ancestry. An interested backer might see that as enough of a reason for him to claim the throne. As much as I hate to implicate him right away, it makes the most sense."

"I can talk to him, if you'd like. See If I can't get something out of him." Caroline offers hesitantly.

"No." He replies immediately, reaching out and cupping her cheek, thumb swiping along her cheekbone. "No I'll not ask you to go against someone who you've known since you were a child."

Caroline covers his hand lingering against her cheek with her own.

"If he's involved in this, he's not the person I thought he was." She explains simply. "This is the most peaceful I've seen the six kingdoms since I can remember. Even my father has remarked on this. If I can help in any way with ensuring that stability and peace remains, then that is my decision to make. And mine alone." Caroline insists, leaning over, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He catches her under the chin gently, lips meeting hers once more.

"My ancestor used to have a saying about The Game of Thrones." He says, once they've moved away from each other, put some distance between them.

"The Game of Thrones? That sounds a little bit dramatic." Caroline replies with a laugh. "What did they used to say, pray tell?"

"When you play the Game of Thrones, you either win, or you die. There is no middle ground." He shivers as he says those words, words that have carried down through House Lannister for endless summers and winters now.

He can't help but pull Caroline into his arms, chin resting on top of her head as he wraps his arms around her waist.

"Promise me you'll be careful, no matter what you choose to do." He adds, knowing that no matter how hard he tries, he will be unable to change her mind once she has made a decision.

Caroline presses a kiss to the skin of his neck, returning his embrace.

"I promise."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Rise and shine my fellow GOT fanatics, Season 6 is almost upon us! I thought a new Chapter of Growing Strong was in order in honour of me waiting almost a year for this season. For the first time since I started watching the show I'm the same as everyone else- I have no idea what's going to happen and I find it super exciting.**

 **I have taken some liberties with the families this chapter- I know in canon the Blackfyres are extinct so bear with me for this story.**

 **Next chapter will be the long awaited wedding between Klaus and Caroline, so get psyched people.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or it's characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

Klaus is up before the sun on the morning of his wedding, standing at his window as he watches the sky lighten, inky blue giving way to the stunning pink and purples that only seem to be apparent with a coastal sunrise.

He can't help but cast a glance over his shoulder at his bed, sheets rumpled and pillows slightly askew. This would be the last time he would sleep in a bed alone, until his death. It was a strange feeling, one that sat heavy in his stomach.

It was a nervous anticipation, not knowing what to expect out of his marriage with Caroline. He hoped that he could make her happy, that she could feel like this was her home. And as much as he wanted to protect her from Court intrigue and gossip, he knew that she would have to face that head on, that she would have to harden herself to the world if she was ever going to succeed as Queen of the Six Kingdoms.

He drains his goblet of water, wanting to keep a clear head for today's proceedings. There would be plenty of wine to be had later, at their wedding feast.

He knew soon that Kol and Elijah would be tapping on his door, to begin helping him make himself ready for the ceremony. Kol would have spent the previous evening polishing his sword, Elijah ensuring that a crown was ready for Caroline, her coronation taking place shortly after the ceremony.

A formality to be sure, but one that must be undertaken if any heirs they produce are to be considered legitimate.

Once the sun has finally burst over the horizon he turns, opening the door of his chamber and picking up the outfit his manservant had laid out for him off one of the wooden side tables.

He's just pulling on his tunic as Kol strides into the room, his sword and scabbard clutched in his hand. Kol is dressed as ever in the snow white cloak of the Kingsguard, the badge of the Lord Commander fastening the garment at his throat.

"Brother." Kol greets him, watching as he works at the fastenings of his tunic.

"Kol." Klaus returns with a nod, taking the sword belt that Kol is offering him.

"Last morning as a single man. How are you feeling?" Kol prods curiously as Klaus positions his scabbard and sword at the appropriate place on his belt.

"Are you expecting me to be nervous? Because I can assure you that I'm not." He tells his brother honestly, nestling his crown in his sandy blonde curls. As King, he was well used to being the centre of attention. He didn't particularly like it, but he knew how to play to the masses, knew what they liked and what they didn't like.

"Ah yes, so you don't feel the unrelenting pressure that comes with having to produce an heir to keep the small folk happy?"

Klaus shrugs.

"I'm sure Caroline will be a great mother to our children. We're young, there's no pressure. The small folk will be happy enough that I'm finally marrying. Stop trying to make something out of nothing."

Kol just grins, slapping him once on the shoulder.

"No need to get so defensive brother. I was just making sure that you're happy."

He just stares at his brother somewhat suspiciously.

"Elijah didn't put you up to this did he?"

"Nope." Kol replies immediately. "Elijah's been way too busy trying to pull this royal wedding off to worry about your happiness. As you recall, this was his idea in the first place. Although from the foolish smile on your face it seems to have worked out well for both parties involved. I take it you've managed to charm Caroline sufficiently enough? And you yourself have been charmed in return?

Klaus just rolls his eyes, pushing past Kol into his antechamber.

"You know for a Kingsguard, you talk far too much." He finally settles for telling his brother.

"I have been told that in the past, yes."

* * *

His breath catches in his throat when he sees Caroline for the first time, framed in the large doorways of the Great Sept.

She's absolutely resplendent in a gown of cream brocade, her blonde hair piled on top of her head, a few curls escaping, framing her face. She's blushing prettily on the arm of her father, perhaps not used to the enormous amount of attention currently being bestowed upon her.

Sunlight streams in from the high windows of the Great Sept, bathing her in a soft golden light, her skin practically luminescent as she and her father pause before him.

William Tyrell offers him a short bow before transferring Caroline's hand over to his. It feels right, her warm palm clasped with his as William steps away, and he and Caroline turn instead to the High Septon.

He'd tuned out for the initial prayers, before Caroline had been led into the Sept by her father. He'd never been a particularly religious King, leaving the praying to Elijah when needed.

The Septon turns towards him, inclining his head respectfully.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

He turns towards Caroline, sees her nose wrinkle at the somewhat archaic language used by the Septon. He didn't doubt that Caroline would be able to protect herself if needed, but of course, he would look after her, body and soul.

It's with sure fingers that Caroline plucks at the fastenings holding her maiden's cloak to her body, and he's there to catch the fine green fabric when it slips from her body. Despite the high neckline of her dress, the back dips low, and he's hard pressed to stop himself from running a gentle finger over the skin of her back.

 _Later._

It's Elijah that steps forward, holding the folded Lannister cloak in his hands. It's a fine piece of work, scarlet material with the golden lion of his house emblazoned across the fabric. He shakes it out quickly, draping it over Caroline's shoulders.

She gives him a soft smile as she pulls it to her throat, making no sign of her nervousness apart from the flush of her cheeks, two high spots of colours betraying her. He can't help but take her hand again when she's done, swiping his thumb over the back of her hand in comfort.

"My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." The Septon intones in a droll voice, and he has to hide his snort at the complete insincerity in the man's voice.

No doubt he's already done hundreds of ceremonies similar, if not thousands. The only difference to this particular occasion is that he's marrying a King. He raises he and Caroline's joined hands slightly, ignoring her look of alarm as the Septon steps forward with a scarlet ribbon, which he proceeds to tie around their hands.

"Let it be known that Caroline of house Tyrell, and Niklaus of house Lannister are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The Septon holds their joined hands in both of his for a moment before unravelling the ribbon slowly. "I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity."

He can't stop the smile from creeping across his face, Caroline sharing in his happiness. He never would have imagined this day ever arriving, not after their somewhat contentious relationship after their initial introductions.

She surprises him, gripping his other hand, swinging them gently back and forth between them with a soft laugh. It's a private moment despite their audience, and he wants nothing more than to cup her face between his hands and kiss her.

"Look upon each other and say the words." The Septon interrupts his train of thought, and he starts visibly as Caroline glances towards him once more with a somewhat amused smile, as if she knows exactly what he's thinking.

"Ready?" He asks her, voice dipping low as she squeezes his hands in acknowledgement.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, and Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."

Having already recited the names of the Seven, Caroline simply looks upon him with a clear gaze and repeats her words.

"I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."

* * *

The Lannister family aren't particularly known for their luck at wedding feasts, but it's with a quick glance around the hall that he admits that his seems to be going well.

Elijah sits on his left with a pleased smile, sipping from a goblet of wine as he watches the festivities unfold in front of him.

"You've outdone yourself, brother." He acknowledges of his Hand somewhat begrudgingly, tapping his goblet against Elijah's.

"Only the best for you Niklaus. Do you not agree that this match was a smart one?" Elijah replies a little pointedly, as he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"If I say yes, will you stop being so smug about it?" He asks, as Elijah pretends to consider his question momentarily.

"Probably not." Elijah admits as his eyes return to the dance floor in front of the dais, where Caroline and Katerina are twirling each other around, Caroline having discarded her Lannister cloak earlier in the evening.

The crown of silver he'd ordered made for her especially is perched in her golden hair, the diamonds shining in the blaze of candle light. She looks like she was born to wear it, born to be a Queen. His Queen.

"Excuse me." He murmurs towards Elijah, draining the rest of his wine. "I'm going to dance with my wife."

The crowd parts for him as he steps onto the floor, spinning couples eyeing him off curiously as he stalks across the floor towards Caroline and Katerina.

Caroline almost stumbles into him on her next spin with her exuberance, and when she turns she blushes, drunk on wine and happiness, going up on her tip toes to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

"Hello Your Grace." She remarks lightly, eyes bright amid the blaze of thousands of candles. "Come to keep an eye on me?" She adds coyly, hands behind her back as Katerina melts away into the crowd, easily finding another partner to amuse herself with for the time being.

"I've come to dance." He declares, pulling her into his body, hand settling near her lower back. Caroline looks surprised by their proximity, but allows him to take her other hand before he twirls her around.

"I didn't think you danced." Caroline sounds breathless as they join the movements of the other couples, and she looks surprised at just how well he's leading her through the dance, perfectly in time with the music.

"Not often." He replies, an enigmatic smile just for her. "But I think tonight marks a rather special occasion, don't you agree?"

She gives him a coy sort of smile, squeezing his hand.

"And what might that occasion be?"

"The joining of our two houses, of course." He replies promptly, twirling her around once more.

Caroline pauses, moving them sideways to another part of the floor.

"Oh? So it wasn't also the fact that the Kingdom of Westeros is a good dealer richer now thanks to our union?"

He's lost for words as he stares at her, her face neutral.

"I'm not a simpleton. I knew that this match would be far more advantageous for you than it would be for me. None of the other families would come near mine if they could avoid it. There hasn't been an good marriage made in Highgarden since the end of the war." Caroline dips her voice low.

"Sweetheart…" He begins uncertainly, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly. He's not sure what to say to make her feel better, already feels despicable enough as it is.

She surprises him by smiling.

"Klaus, I'm happy to be here. With you." She emphasises, swiping her thumb along his cheekbone. "And I think despite my misgivings, things turned out alright in the end, didn't they?"

He presses her forehead against hers with a smile, lacing their fingers together.

"Yes they did. We'll look after each other, won't we?"

Caroline grips his chin and presses the softest of kisses to his lips.

"Until my dying breath."

* * *

"We don't have to do this tonight, if you're weary." He watches her as she crosses his chamber, heading for the side table where a tray of food and a skin of wine has been left out for them.

Caroline reaches for a Dornish peach and takes a bite, juice practically dripping from the fruit. She makes a soft noise of pleasure as he traces her steps, reaching for the wine and pouring them both a cup.

She takes her cup from him with a secret smile, offering him the peach with her other hand. He takes a small bite, the tart flavour flooding his senses as he licks the juice from her fingers, enjoying her sharp intake of breath, the way her eyes flutter slightly.

"I'm not too wearied. Although I'm counting on you changing that." She tells him directly, taking a sip of her wine.

He seats himself at one of the chairs, staring at her in surprise.

"You're being very direct." He tells her as she smiles again, dropping the peach on the tray with a clatter, licking the stickiness off her fingers.

"Perhaps I always have been. I just haven't with you." She replies, draining her goblet, reaching for the ties of her cloak.

"I have to say love, I quite like this side of you." He purrs, reaching out for her hand, tugging her towards him.

"Women are supposed to be meek and quiet, good for the bed chamber and for bearing children. From a very young age I was taught differently." Caroline lets the cloak pool at her feet, letting go of his hand and reaching for the ties on the front of her cream coloured dress.

"You see my grandmother might not have been a very popular person. But she knew that she was worth more than the men in her life told her she was. I know that there can be pleasure in the bedchamber between a husband and a wife. And that there's so much more that I am capable of than just bearing your children."

Caroline bends down, plucking his crown from her head and setting it on the table. She arranges herself in his lap, and he's forced to put his wine down in favour of having his hands on her.

Their first private kiss is soft and gentle, but soon increases in it's urgency, Caroline gasping into his mouth as she rakes a hand through his hair. His hands bunch in the fabric of her heavy skirts, and he surprises both of them by standing suddenly, Caroline gripping his shoulders with a shriek.

"Turn around for me love." He instructs, setting her on her feet gently, gripping her waist gently as she turns.

It's with deft fingers that he plucks at the strings at the back of her gown, loosening the garment with each brush of fingers against her warm skin.

Caroline begins to tug her arms through the sleeves as the dress loosens further, and soon enough she's pushing it down, letting it pool at her feet as she steps out of the circle of fabric.

"You're wearing far too many layers." Caroline tells him quietly, clad only in her shift. She leans forward, gathering the bottom of his tunic in her hands and tugging. He steps back, pulling the material up and over his head, grinning as she leans over to fix his hair.

It's with gentle fingers that she traces over the scar on his chest, leaning forward to kiss the puckered skin.

"Come on then." Caroline reaches down and tugs at his hand, steering him towards the featherbed, pushing him down to sit on the end.

He shucks his boots quickly, tossing them towards the edge of the chamber, not really caring where they land.

"You seem quite eager sweetheart." He points out as she pulls her shift over her head, completely unashamed of her nakedness. He drinks in the sight of her like a starving man, taking in the dips and gentle curves of her body.

"In case you haven't yet realised, husband." She begins, a playful curve to her lips. "I am incredibly attracted to you, and now I finally have the chance to get you into my bed."

"Your bed?" He asks with a chuckle, as she bends down, pressing hot, openmouthed kisses to his neck.

"Our bed." She admits grudgingly as he catches her around the waist, pressing her down into the coverlet.

"Good." He replies, pinning her hands next to her head. "Now do try and stay still, won't you darling?" He asks, smiling into the skin of her neck as her breath hitches.

They talk very little after that. He takes his time with her, lips and hands sliding gently over her flushed skin. He listens to her gasps and whimpers as he lets his lips nip at a particularly sensitive spot, her back arching slightly off the coverlet, nipples brushing against his chest.

Caroline's hands are unsteady as she plucks at the laces of his breeches, and together they push the pants down until he can kick them off. His small clothes meet the same fate, discarded somewhere over the side of the bed as they meet skin to skin for the first time.

"Klaus, come on." Caroline pleads with him somewhat impatiently as he lines his hips up with hers, rubbing his cock against her entrance, feeling how wet she already is for him.

"Eager love?" He asks, not giving her time to answer before he pushes into her with one quick, snap of his hips. Caroline's low groan is like music to his ears as she clenches around him.

"Alright sweetheart?" He stills as Caroline rolls her hips beneath him, heel digging into his arse.

"Move." Caroline commands between gritted teeth, and he lets out a soft chuckle before pulling back, setting a quick rhythm with his hips that has Caroline gasping.

He loses all sense of time as they move together, Caroline meeting the movements of his body with her own, hands roaming over his chest and shoulders as her back arches off the bed.

"Klaus, I'm close." She whispers into his ear, breath hot against the side of his neck. He picks up the rhythm of his hips, hand sliding down her body to where she needs him the most, circling around her slit before pressing up against her clit insistently, well timed with his thrusts.

She comes with his name on her lips, a whispered sigh that has him groaning into her neck as he spills inside of her.

He pulls out, sweat cooling on their bodies as Caroline crawls towards him with a shaky laugh, leaning down to rest her head against his chest.

"Thank the Seven." Caroline finally says out loud with a laugh. "I don't know how I'd have coped if you'd been terrible in bed."

He wraps an arm around her shoulder, thumb sweeping over heated skin as he presses a kiss to her tangled curls.

"Good to know you have priorities all sorted love." He replies with a fond smile. "Although I shouldn't expect anything less."

"No you shouldn't." Caroline replies, pressing her cheek into his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat.

"Sleep, love. I'm not quite done with you tonight."

* * *

 **AN: Apologies for the wait, lovelies! On another note, how** ** _insane_** **was this season of Game of Thrones? So much stuff happened!**

 **I thought a bit of fluff was in order, there'll be about 2 more chapters left on this bad boy if I've planned it out correctly.**

 **Hope you all enjoyed this one!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

It's the sunlight hitting his eyes that finally pulls him from his peaceful slumber, one arm wrapped tightly around Caroline's waist. He buries his face into her neck, stubble scratching against the sensitive skin there.

Caroline lets out a soft murmur but doesn't wake, instead pulling his arm tighter around her middle, burrowing into the pillows with a sleepy sigh. She's naked as the day she was born, endless curves and lines of smooth skin, unmarked by war or trauma. He can't help but swipe his thumb gently over her skin, marvelling that the woman in his arms is finally his.

Not that he'd ever tell Caroline that, somehow he thinks she'd object to being referred to as nothing more than an object. To him however, she was so much more than that, something she was perhaps only just beginning to realise herself.

Not a Queen, not his wife, but his equal.

He'd had her twice again after their first time. She'd been sated but pliant, more than willing to be taken into his arms. The next time, after the candles had burnt down and the room was dark she'd sought him out, sinking down onto him with a soft sigh into his ear that he'd remember until his dying days.

A pounding on the door has him letting out a soft growl under his breath, and he works slowly to extricate himself from Caroline's iron grip. It takes some time before he's able to escape from under the covers, Caroline, rolling over, arm flung out towards the space he'd just occupied.

He pulls on some small clothes and some breeches, padding barefoot from his bedchamber to the antechamber, pausing at the door.

"Who is it?" He asks, voice still rough from sleep. There were guards at either end of the hall outside of his chamber, but with the closest weapon across the other side of the room, one never could be too careful.

"I apologise for disturbing you this morning NIklaus, but there is something I must discuss with you." Elijah replies, clipped voice muffled somewhat by the thick wooden door separating them.

Klaus just sighs, resting his forehead against the wood before taking a step back and pulling the door open. Today of all days, where he was expected to do nothing but stay in with his newly wedded wife…

Elijah looks slightly apologetic if not a little sleep rumpled, hair still askew from where it had no doubt been pressed into his pillow. Klaus catalogues his half brother's appearance, noting the presence of a love bite just peeking out from Elijah's collar with some bemusement.

"Come in then. Have you eaten?" He asks of Elijah, who waves his hand dismissively, taking a seat at the round table in the antechamber.

"It can wait. Sit Niklaus." Elijah motions for him to join him.

He crosses to his bedchamber, peeking in to see a still slumbering Caroline before pulling the door shut gently. Only then does he sit opposite Elijah at the table.

"I assume this is a conversation that requires some secrecy." He tells Elijah, who's staring at him somewhat quizzically. "I'd rather not pull Caroline into something that could potentially put her life in danger."

Elijah just sighs.

"She's a part of this now whether she wants to be or not. For anyone seeking the throne, she's in just as much danger as you are. Perhaps more, if people are looking to use her as leverage against her."

He freezes, realising that Elijah is right.

"She can't be here then. Not while she's in danger." He decides, sees the frown that crosses Elijah's face.

"At the moment Niklaus, I don't trust anyone with her safety, certainly not enough to send her away until the danger has passed."

His brother's words worry him, and he scrubs a hand over his face somewhat wearily. Kingship was a heavy burden to carry on the best of days, even more so during times of crisis.

He'd been blessed with a relatively peaceful reign, save for some trouble in the Riverlands only a few short seasons after his crowning. He'd almost died putting down the uprising, the Tully house disgraced and in ruin ever since.

But now, he was getting older, and he had no time for such inconvenience, not now when the kingdoms were finally beginning to prosper after the War of the Dawn.

"We could send her North. Jon Snow's grandson still styles himself as King in the North. I'm sure he would assist me, if I asked." Klaus points out, even as a frown furrows Elijah's brow.

He'd kept good faith with the North since he'd been crowned, immediately treating with Daven, the grandson of Jon Snow, who had been crowned by his banner men after taking back Winterfell from the bastard son of Roose Bolton.

North and South had always had an uneasy relationship, but he had allowed them their independence, continuing to visit periodically as a gesture of good will, emptying the dungeons and sending able bodied men North to man the wall- or what was left of it since it had fallen.

The task of rebuilding had taken decades, and there were still large stretches to repair and mend before it could be restored to it's former glory. It would not happen in his lifetime, and perhaps not even in his children's lifetime.

"Daven would help, but it would take days to get a raven to him, and even more time to have Caroline reach the North safely. No, I do not think we have enough time." Elijah replies quietly. "I want you and Caroline to spend some time away from Kings Landing. Kol and I have our suspicions, now we just need them confirmed.

Klaus rests his elbows on the table, staring at his brother.

"How long do you need?"

Elijah lifts a shoulder as a way of reply.

"A day, perhaps one more. I will send for you when our work is done." Elijah confirms with a curt nod as he stands.

At the same time the door to the bed chamber swings open, and Caroline appears on the threshold, sleep rumpled and wrapped in a robe. She's barefooted and her hair is a messy halo around her face but she still looks every inch a Queen as she turns to Elijah.

"Lord Baratheon. Surely you don't mean to steal my husband away on business, today of all days?" She enquires politely, holding out her hand as Elijah bows over it.

"I wouldn't dream of it Your Grace." Elijah answers immediately, eyes dancing with mirth. "My business with Niklaus is finished, and I leave him in your capable hands."

Caroline gives Elijah a quick smile before turning to him as his Hand silently takes his leave.

"I apologise if I woke you love. You should go back to bed."

Caroline's gaze is critical if not a little knowing if she gives him a languid once over, eyes narrowing a little at his nonchalant tone.

She holds out an elegant hand for him, which he immediately steps forward to take.

"Only if you join me." She replies with a coy smile.

He can't help but let her tug him backwards, shutting the door to the antechamber behind him. Caroline drops the robe and slips under the cover, clad in a thin shift. She pats the blanket beside her, where he'd slept peacefully.

With a soft smile he strips his breeches, lifting the covers and resting on his side, one hand reaching out to tuck some of Caroline's curls behind her ear.

"What troubles you?" Caroline asks, rolling over onto her stomach, blanket slipping from her shoulder. "And don't say nothing, because Elijah wouldn't disturb you if it weren't important."

He just sighs, bending down to press a kiss to the smooth skin of her cheek.

"Elijah would like us to spend some time away from Kings Landing today, perhaps for tomorrow also. He and Kol have some work to do and both would prefer to have us out of the way."

"The usurper?" Caroline asks, biting her lip. She looks troubled, and he wants nothing more than to take those worries away from her.

He knows what troubles her, the fact that Tyler Blackfyre could actively be seeking to overthrow him. Her as well, now that she'd married him. That aside, he was a childhood friend, and that sort of betrayal would hurt.

"Yes. Elijah and Kol are leaving nothing to chance. We'll ride out when you're ready. I'm sorry we couldn't have more of a peaceful morning."

Caroline's smile is like the sun.

"There will be other mornings, I'm sure."

She meets him halfway, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

"Endless mornings with you."

* * *

Caroline lingers in the stable yard, eyeing off the dappled grey mare he'd gifted to her earlier, after they'd just been betrothed.

He's holding the reins to his own mount, an amused smile on his face as he watches Caroline reacquaint herself with the mare. Clearly it had been some time since she'd ridden.

"Need a hand sweetheart?" He asks in a light tone as she throws him a dark glare. He smothers his laughter, handing his reins to the stableboy, who casts his eyes downwards before ducking his head respectfully.

"I think I'm quite alright." Caroline replies evenly, gathering the reins in one hand, the other going to the pommel of the new saddle he'd had made. It was a man's saddle, one that would allow her to sit astride the horse rather than side saddle.

He watches her struggle for a few moments to mount the horse, before stepping forward and bending down, lacing his fingers together and waiting.

He can see the moment that Caroline gives up as she lets out an irritated huff of breath, before placing her boot in his waiting hands and pushing off against his body.

He waits until she's settled into the saddle before handing her the reins, giving her boot a quick squeeze. Her eyes flick down towards him and she gives him a small smile, as if to say thanks.

"It'll get easier with practice." He promises before he's turning and swinging himself up into the saddle of his own stallion.

"Show off." He hears Caroline mutter under her breath as the stable boys scatter and the four guards that Kol had assigned to come with them form a loose square around them.

Kings Landing was relatively peaceful this time of the morning, but an unexpected appearance from the King and Queen would always be enough to cause a stir.

Kol and Elijah both had insisted on a retinue of 12 guards, but he'd managed to negotiate it down to four, stating that a larger party would be more obvious to anyone looking to cause trouble in Kings Landing.

Elijah had agreed, albeit reluctantly.

The clattering of the horses hooves against cobblestone are impossibly loud in the stillness of the morning, and he sees Caroline wince out of the corner of his eye. They'd both dressed plainly, trusting that for the most part they'd go relatively unrecognised without all of their finery, and his crown.

They make quick progress through the twists and turns of the streets, and soon they're clear from the outer gate on the city walls, rolling plains stretching out before them as far as they eye can see.

"So where are we going?" Caroline asks curiously, guiding her mount in next to his, knee brushing up against his as she does so.

He smiles enigmatically at her before answering.

"We're going to see the Dothraki, love."

He can see that Caroline is wary of the situation, as two Dothraki outriders come to greet them in their native tongue.

He responds in kind, Caroline glancing at him in shock and surprise that he can speak the guttural language of the horse lords. He winks at her in reassurance as he clasps hands with the two blood riders before they continue on.

They come to the top of a hill, and suddenly the Dothraki encampment is spread before them. He sees the alarm in Caroline's eyes, and she immediately moves to calm her mare, who had obviously picked up on her tense mood if her skittishness is anything to go by.

The Dothraki encampment was common knowledge in The Crownlands, and for the most part the citizenry and the Dothraki cohabited peacefully side by side. The Dothraki had taken to trading cattle and horses, their ventures often quite successful in market.

Given how sheltered Caroline had mentioned she was in The Reach, he highly doubted that her father or any of her father's advisors had bothered to mention the Dothraki community that had permanently settled in The Crownlands after the death of Daenerys Targaryen.

He holds out a gloved hand for her, which she reaches over and takes. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance, even as her eyes take everything in before them.

"I have always had a very good relationship with The Dothraki, one that has been cultivated by my grandfather and father for centuries. You have nothing to fear from them." He dips his voice low, not wishing to lend insult to the blood riders who are even now galloping ahead of them to announce their arrival.

Khal Rago bursts from his tent as they approach, a wide smile on his face and arms held open wide.

He dismounts fluidly, meeting Rago halfway as they embrace, Rago laughing into his ear.

"Look at you? Already bored of your new wife?" Rago asks in Dothraki.

"On the contrary, circumstances took us outside of the city today. I thought it was high time that the two of you met." He replies in the Common Tongue, turning as Caroline slides out of the saddle gracefully, skirts swaying as she lands on the ground.

She looks every inch the queen as she comes to join them, drawing herself up to her full height as she looks Khal Rago in the eye.

"Your Grace." Khal Rago inclines his head politely towards Caroline, who smiles tentatively at him before responding in kind.

"Let us talk Niklaus, about what brings you to me the day after your wedding of all days."

Caroline grabs his hand before they can be separated, following Rago into his tent. Once they're all settled in he turns down the wine, Caroline doing the same.

He launches into a short account of all that had transpired, the writing on the wall, Elijah and Kol's suspicions, the request for them to clear out of the city until the danger had passed.

"Rather than drag another noble family into this mess and bother them with our presence, we decided to come here to you. No one will bother us here."

Khal Rago nods in agreement before spreading his hands wide.

"Allow us then, to show you a good time."

* * *

He and Caroline are given a special tour of the Dothraki camp before long wooden tables are dragged out for a great feast. Caroline sits to Khal Rago's left, a spot of honour that is rarely afforded to any guest, not even him.

Of course, Caroline had used her natural charm and charisma throughout the day to win over the otherwise tough war lord, and soon she and Khal Rago were chattering away in a mix of the Common Tongue and very broken Dothraki, Rago teaching Caroline various phrases where he was able.

He watches as Caroline digs into the food with great relish, sampling pieces of various dishes that Rago passes over to her.

The sun begins to sink below the horizon, and he blinks in surprise, only beginning to realise just how fast the day had passed. There had been no word from Elijah or Kol, and he resigns himself to the fact that he and Caroline would be staying here for the night.

The loud beating of drums jolts him out of his silent musings, and his eyes flick towards the space in front of the table, where two Dothraki are preparing to begin wrestling. He'd been exposed to such exhibition matches in the past, especially earlier in his reign.

Caroline looks curious, leaning forward over the table as the two men square off against each other.

"Your wife seems to enjoy our culture." Rago remarks somewhat amusedly as the wrestling begins and Caroline lets in a sharp intake of breath.

"She has a curious mind." He answers, bringing his wine to his lips.

"This marriage. Was it one of convenience?" Rago asks, tripping over the unfamiliar word.

"To begin with. It is… more now." Klaus replies, glancing sideways at Caroline.

"I'm glad to hear it." Rago smiles. "It's nice, to see you happy. She will make a good queen."

"You are welcome to stay as long as you wish." Rago tells them both as he pulls the flap of the tent aside, waving them both inside. "I have instructed that my own personal quarters be given to you."

"We are honoured." Caroline replies before he can answer, a soft smile on her face as she takes in her surroundings.

"I will leave you to it." Rago gives them a short bow before taking his leave, the flap falling back into place. He can hear his guards taking up position outside of the tent, murmured conversation muffled by the thick fabric of the walls.

"Well I have to say that I never imagined myself staying in a Dothraki camp." Caroline remarks bemusedly. "You are full of surprises."

"I'm glad I could be of service." He replies dryly, stepping towards her as she turns her back on him.

His fingers fall to the laces of her dress almost automatically, beginning to pluck at the strings that hold her gown secure. Caroline lets out a sigh of relief as the fabric begins to loosen, and he can't help but rub soothing circles into the skin where angry red marks had been left behind.

Caroline's breathing quickens as she holds the front of her dress to her chest, turning in the circle of his arms.

Their lips meet clumsily, with far less finesse than anything that had transpired between them last night. Caroline's laughter is soft as his lips press into the soft skin of her neck.

"As much as I'd like nothing more, we shouldn't probably insult Khal Rago by defiling his pallet." Caroline says with another laugh.

"Sleep then?" He asks, pressing a kiss to her temple.

* * *

The message comes as the sun rises, the clattering of hooves alerting him to the fact that there was a rider pulling up in front of their tent.

He flings back the furs that he and Caroline are sleeping under, running a gentle hand over Caroline's back as he tucks the furs in around her.

Tugging a shirt over his head as he goes, he reaches for the flap of the tent, blinking as he emerges into the sunlight.

The two guards on the pre dawn shift are holding the horse steady as Kol dismounts, snow white cloak pulled tight around his shoulders. The Dothraki blood riders look uneasy at the presence of Kol, a legendary swordsman in his own right, along with his razor sharp wit.

Given his noble upbringing, Kol was also fluent in Dothraki, and seemed perfectly comfortable with a hand on the pommel of his sword, as his eyes scan the encampment around him.

"Brother." Klaus greets Kol, stepping forward and clasping his hand briefly.

Klaus inclines his head in response, a hand on his shoulder as he steers him away from the guards, towards a quieter part of the camp.

"It's done." Kol murmurs, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "There was another message this morning, written on one of the city walls. The people were not pleased. It seems that your marriage was a more popular match than anticipated."

"And the usurper?" He asks of Kol.

"Both perpetrators are in custody. There are not many who know of the arrests. I figured the less public the punishment the better. The small folk don't respond well to public executions."

"Who?"

Kol grimaces unpleasantly.

"I think you'd better see for yourself."

Their ride back to the city is much quicker than their progress yesterday, Caroline riding pillion with him as they gallop towards the gates, Kol having lashed Caroline's mare to his own steed.

Caroline's cheek is pressed into his back, her body warm against his, hands wrapped tightly around his middle.

Kol takes them through the most direct route, cutting straight through the middle of the city, often plunging into crowds of people, hooves striking against cobblestones.

"Make way for the King!" One of the guards yell as the small folk scatter before them, often brushing right up against their horse in their haste to move.

"The King! Queen Caroline!" The odd yell rips through the morning air, Caroline lifting her head in curiosity.

They move on quickly, the ground sloping upwards before them, the roads becoming thinner the closer they get to the Red Keep.

"Open the gate!" Comes the yell from the top of the wall, the soldiers scrambling to do as they are bid as they canter towards the entrance to the Keep.

They emerge into the courtyard, stable boys rushing to steady their mounts. Kol vaults off his horse neatly, turning to help Caroline down.

Once his boots are planted on the ground he beckons to one of the Gold Cloaks, who rushes to his side and bows deeply.

"Take the Queen to my chamber. I will join her shortly." He orders, as Caroline turns to him with a defiant tilt of her chin.

"I'm coming with you." Caroline replies, even as he lets out a sigh, taking her face between his hands.

"The Black Cells are no place for someone of your standing. I will come and find you as soon as I'm done. I promise."

Caroline looks like she's about to protest further before Kol steps in.

"Nik is right Your Grace. The Black Cells are enough to give anyone nightmares. I would not willingly take you there, even if you ordered me to."

"Fine." Caroline finally relents, going up on tiptoes to to kiss him on the cheek. "But you'll tell me everything later."

"Of course." He promises, watching as the guard leads her away from him.

He turns to Kol, who tilts his head as they fall into step together.

"Tell me how you tracked them down." He orders Kol, who lifts a ring of keys from his belt and unlocks the heavy wooden door that leads to the dungeon.

They're kept empty most of the time, most prisoners that are sentenced being sent straight to the wall. But as they take a staircase that winds lower into the dungeons, the air starts to get colder, the atmosphere more malevolent.

Only the worst criminals are kept here, in what is commonly known as The Black Cells. They're the criminals that are too depraved to be sent to the wall, that are unable to rehabilitated and let back into society. Most are awaiting execution, the others awaiting trials.

Their footsteps echo against the stone.

"It was quite easy actually. I even got to play another role for the night. I thought I did quite well, even if Elijah thought I was a little exaggerated." Kol begins with a chuckle, continuing to lead the way down the hall.

"As it turns out, the Blackfyre boy is quite arrogant. It was easy enough to get a few of the lads to ply him with alcohol, and once the ale started flowing, so too did his grand plans to overthrow you and take Caroline as his Queen."

Kol stops before the cell of Tyler Blackfyre, a somewhat sympathetic look on his face.

The boy is slumped over in the corner of the cell, his body bruised and battered, hair falling into his face.

"He'll be executed Dawn tomorrow." Kol supplies before he can ask the question.

"And the sister?"

"It's handled. Elijah will announce our engagement shortly, hopefully before all of this gets out." Kol looks pleased by this, which surprises him.

"You said that there were two perpetrators though. Who was the second?"

"You're not going to like this." Kol murmurs as he progresses further down the hallway.

The cell at the end is shrouded in darkness, and it takes awhile for his eyes to adjust as he leans forward, peering into the space beyond the bars.

Wheezing laughter echoes around the cell as the man leans forward, and suddenly he's recoiling backwards in shock as the familiar features make themselves apparent.

He sucks in a breath as the man meets his eyes.

"Marcel."

* * *

 **AN: And finally we get to the big reveal! The reason why I had all this happen offscreen is that this is more about Klaus and Caroline's journey together rather than a typical 'whodunit'.**

 **This was always going to be a short one. Basically we'll find out next chapter what why Marcel chose to throw his support behind a Blackfyre, but basically Marcel hails from Dorne, who have been historically known to support the Targaryens, and by extension anyone who had Targaryen blood in their veins.**

 **Next chapter should be the last one for this story. Thanks for joining me on this ride!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or it's characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

* * *

"You seem surprised." Marcel smiles at him with bloody teeth, and he can't help but wince on his old friend's behalf. It seems his treatment at the hands of his men had not been pleasant.

Marcel had been with him since the beginning of his reign, since before that. They'd been friends while he'd been training to take over the role of king, a constant companion for as long as he can remember.

It seems unbelievable that this could be happening, that his oldest friend could have been the one that betrayed him. He tries to sort through the events of the past few months, trying to pick out when Marcel had ever behaved suspiciously.

"Why?" Is all he asks, as Marcel settles himself against the wall of his cell, legs stretched out before him. It's with a curt nod that Klaus turns, pulling up a stool to the iron bars of the cell and dismissing the guard to the end of the hallway simultaneously.

"The simple explanation? Old loyalties die hard." Marcel replies smoothly, and things start to make sense in his mind.

Marcel was from Dorne, the proud kingdom to the South that had only bowed the knees to their Targaryen conquerors after they had been joined to the Seven Kingdoms through a peaceful marriage alliance with the Targaryen family.

Since then, Dorne had always remained loyal to the Targaryens.

"Tyler isn't a Targaryen though. Not in the traditional sense." He points out neutrally as he fiddles with the bracers strapped to his arms.

"He has enough of their blood in his veins to make a somewhat compelling claim to the throne. We spoke, and I saw the sense in his claim. Surely you know how much your family is hated in these parts? People still remember the actions of the Mad Queen."

Marcel spits at the mention of Cersei Lannister. She was an ancestor he was not particularly proud of, but as Tyrion always used to mention, you never could pick your family. She had paid her dues in the end, strangled to death by her twin, Jaime.

"I suppose the efforts of my father and my grandfather before him were for naught?" Klaus asks with a sigh.

"They helped. But even that wasn't enough. There will always be someone who seeks to take your crown, as long as you have Lannister blood running through your veins. Marrying Caroline was a smart move. Her family is rich, but they also have one of the largest standing armies currently in Westeros." Marcel lets out a wracking cough, and from the corner of his eye Klaus sees Kol appear at the end of the hallway.

He beckons his brother towards him, waiting until Kol bends down close to him. He whispers something to his brother, Marcel watching them with a curious gaze. Understanding passes over Kol's face before he's giving a nod, turning on his heels and striding up the stairs and out of the Black Cells.

"Organising my execution then?" Marcel asks evenly, voice neutral despite the death that almost certainly awaits him.

He's not a fool. He knows very well that Marcel can't live, not after this. But what he does need to find out is if Marcel's rebellion is the action of a few men, or an entire kingdom. He doesn't have the energy nor the inclination to go to war with Dorne, the Southern Kingdom providing much of the tropical fruit and wine that he and his nobles consumed on a daily basis.

That and he quite liked the Dornish.

He just smiles at Marcel, running a hand through his hair.

"Do I need to be worried about open rebellion?" He asks of Marcel, who lets out a chuckle.

"Straight to the point as always Nik."

The nickname pierces him like a dagger, and he tries not to flinch at the name rolling off Marcel's tongue. That name is reserved for those closest to him.

"Answer the question." He commands, leaning forward on the stool as Marcel regards him with begrudging respect.

"No." Marcel replies, licking his lips. "The Prince of Dorne was unwilling to take part in whatever plans I had for Tyler Blackfyre. He seems to like you, respect you. In fact, he threatened to execute me for being a traitor to my kingdom, before I escaped."

"And he didn't see fit to warn me of your impending betrayal?" Klaus points out as Marcel smirks.

"He tried. I intercepted his raven, unbeknownst to him."

Klaus scowls at this, making a mental note to send a letter to the Prince as soon as possible. Despite Marcel's promise that Dorne was not planning a rebellion, it would be wise to reassure the Prince that their alliance was still strong."

"What was your plan then, if you did not have the backing of your kingdom?"

Marcel spreads his hands wide in a placating gesture.

"There are still sell swords that hate the Lannisters, that hate you. It would not have been hard to find good men. Tyler had enough money to do so."

Kol appears at his side, a glare directed towards Marcel as he hands over a goblet and a flask of Dornish wine. Klaus pours out some of the wine, holding out the goblet for Marcel to take.

"Drink. I imagine you are famished." He offers as Marcel gazes at him for a long moment, before he's leaning over and taking the goblet.

"My favourite." Marcel notes in surprise as he stares down at the goblet held between his hands. Kol backs away, giving him space with Marcel as the other man gives a sigh.

"A toast then, to my death. And ruined friendships." Marcel lifts the goblet towards him, and then drains it in one.

He sits back and waits.

He should do this publicly, an execution on the steps of the Great Sept like the Kings of old had done to those that had tried to take the crown. It was almost tradition, and he had done it once or twice in his reign.

Public executions served their purpose twofold. Not only did it rid him of a known enemy, it also served as a warning to the small folk, to anyone who was thinking of doing something just as stupid.

He can almost see the moment the poison takes hold in Marcel's body, the other man's eyes widening imperceptibly as the goblet clatters to the floor. The poison he'd chosen was particularly fast working, almost painless as it worked to shut down the body.

"Ah." Marcel sighs, leaning back against the wall of his cell. "You always manage to surprise me Nik."

He says nothing in reply, watching as Marcel's eyes flutter close, watches as his whole body relaxes.

"Thank you." Marcel whispers before he takes his last breath.

He waits a few moments before he stands, turning to Kol.

"It's done. I'll be with Caroline if anyone needs me."

* * *

He's up with the sunrise the next day, arms braced against the window sill as the cool air filters into the bed chamber.

His mind is moving quickly, cataloguing everything that has happened, everything that will happen in the next few days. He can't help but bury his head in his hands, let out a soft groan.

He hadn't wanted to kill Marcel. But he couldn't let him live. Marcel had been buried in an unmarked grave outside of the city walls, the only reminder of one of his oldest friends.

Arms slip around his waist from behind, and he almost jumps before remembering that it's Caroline. She presses a cheek into his back, huffing out a breath as her fingers lace together over his chest.

"Are you okay?" She asks simply, giving him plenty of room to evade the question if he wishes.

He covers her hands with one of his own, still staring out the window.

"I have to execute Tyler." He replies neutrally, unsure as to how she will react to this news.

"I know." Is all she responds with, her tone even. She makes no move to beg for the boy's life, no move to talk him out of it. The simple acceptance of the fate of someone she'd known for almost her whole life stuns him into silence.

"I don't want you to resent me." He finally admits out loud, letting go of the thought that had kept him up at night, that had plagued him with doubt ever since Marcel's death.

Caroline's hands curl over his heart, squeezing just a little tighter.

"That isn't going to happen. You have my word. Klaus, he threatened you, this kingdom, the stability of the land. He made his decision, and now he has to accept the consequences of his actions. I would never hate you for doing your duty, for keeping me safe." Caroline says quietly, and he lets out the breath that he never even realised that he was holding.

"You've known him for a long time." He points out as Caroline tugs at him, forcing him to turn and face her.

"You are my future Klaus. Not Tyler, or anyone else. Only you."

"And you are mine." He tells her, clasping her hands between his own. "I love you." He tells her simply.

Caroline's smile is like the sun.

"And I, you."

* * *

In the end, he decides to keep the execution of Tyler Blackfyre a secret. His head will be displayed on the walls for the small folk to see, branded a traitor to the Six Kingdoms.

The boy was already terrified enough, you could see it in his eyes as he was taken from his cell and hauled in front of him in a shaded courtyard.

Guards had prepared a block for him earlier, and he'd ordered his great sword to be sharpened yesterday, Kol delivering it to the blacksmith. A clean stroke was better, certainly less messy.

He'd left Caroline earlier, pressing one last kiss to her temple before she'd gone to find Rebekah, to meet her new sister for lunch. Kol had accompanied her before coming to meet him.

He stands still as a statue, staring down at the boy in front of him, wondering what his motivations possibly could have been. His sister, Davina Blackfyre had been informed of his impending execution by Kol, and by all accounts the girl had taken it well, a little horrified by her brother's scheming.

He still planned on wedding her to Kol, especially now that she would be alone in the world.

"Tyler Blackfyre." He begins, the other boy finally meeting his eyes with a resigned air. Dried blood covered his face and he looked gaunt and pale, a side effect of his time in the Black Cells.

A King carrying out an execution was not usually done in the South. A typically Northern Practice, he knew that Tyrion had spent enough time in Jon Snow's company to know that the boy favoured that particular brand of justice, and that Tyrion respected him for it.

 _"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."_

"By the power invested in me by The Seven, as King of the Andals, Lord of the Six Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, find you guilty of treason and regicide, and so I do sentence you to die."

Two of the guards force Tyler down onto the block, holding his arms out wide as the boy rests his head in the niche carved out specifically for this purpose.

He draws his sword, the blade scraping against the scabbard as he grips it with both hands.

"Do you have any last words?" He asks, pausing to at least give the boy this reprieve. Tyler remains silent, and it's only when he meets Kol's eyes that he swings his sword above his head and brings it down onto the boy's neck.

Blood spurts from the open wound left behind, the head bouncing into the reeds placed below the block. A guard steps forward to take his sword, to clean it before returning it, but he shakes his head, instead holding his hand out for a cloth.

It's respect he sees in the guard's eyes, as his bidding is done. As he wipes the cloth over his sword, ensuring that he's wiped up every last drop of blood, he sees Tyler's body being removed out of the corner of his eye.

The Maester will prepare his body, peeling away the skin and organs, arranging for his bones to be sent back to his family home. He knows not who will ensure that Tyler receives a proper burial, but it is not his duty to ensure that it happens.

He will keep Tyler's head for himself, to display outside the Keep before it is tarred and sent with the rest of his bones.

Kol comes to him, clasping a hand to his shoulder, eyes watching carefully for any sign that he's affected by this.

"Okay?" Kol asks in a low voice as the guard's move towards the corner of the courtyard discreetly, as they've been taught.

He nods, shrugging off his brother's hand as he sheathes his sword.

"I'm fine. I'd rather not do this, but it needed to be done. Where is Caroline?" He asks, as they pass from the courtyard into another, busier one.

"She's still with Bekah last I heard. They're probably down at the Cliff Gardens."

He lets Kol lead the way as they continue their meandering progress throughout The Keep. He'd sent a raven to Dorne just this morning, an overture to their Prince, to invite him to Court. It had been some time since the Dornish had visited, and he needed to make sure that Marcel wasn't playing with him, wasn't choosing to manipulate him one more time before he went to his grave.

He spots two golden heads almost as soon as he steps into the garden, Rebekah and Caroline whispering, heads bent together like they've known each other for years rather than a few days.

Rebekah lets out a burst of laughter and he can't help but stop short, glancing at Kol in surprise. Rebekah was a serious person by nature, rarely let her guard down to anyone but her brothers, and only in private.

"It seems that your wife has charmed our sister a great deal." Kol points out unnecessarily, his own smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

It's Caroline that spots him first, her eyes taking in everything from the wearied set to his shoulders to the somewhat forced smile on his face. She touches Rebekah lightly on the shoulder before drifting towards them, the skirts of her gown trailing on the stone behind her, resplendent in Lannister red.

He offers her his arm and she takes it, calling out a farewell to Rebekah over her shoulder. The other girl lifts a hand in return, before Kol is stepping over to his sister, saying something to her that makes him swat her playfully on the shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Caroline questions gently as they turn down a path, heads bent closely together.

He listens to his boots crunch against the stony path for a moment or two before he replies.

"Not really. But I will be." He promises, hand coming up to squeeze her own where it's resting on his arm.

"I know you will." She replies confidently, like she just knows beyond a shadow of a doubt. "You're a strong man, a great ruler. And we will deal with whatever comes next together."

He lets those words sink in, astounded by the love that she has for him, love that he never thought he would ever experience in an arranged marriage, especially given how antagonistic their early acquaintanceship had been.

He stops them, stepping closer as he cups her face between his hands, bending down to kiss her slowly, lazily, like they had all of the time in the world.

Because they did.

Caroline looks dazed when he finally steps down, and he can't help but smile down at her when he finally replies.

"Together."

* * *

 **A/N: Aaaand that's it for our Game of Thrones universe. I had a really fun time writing this one, and hope you guys loved it as well. This was never intended to be a full length story, and it's a nice change to be able to write something a little shorter.**

 **Thankyou to all who favourited, read, and reviewed, as ever you all mean the world to me, and I always get excited when my inbox pings with that little notification. I loved hearing all of your thoughts about this universe and this story.**

 **I'll see you over on my other incomplete works- Fever Pitch, Spies AU, and How It All Ends. Bare with me as I figure out just how I'm going to weave these particular tales.**

 **I'm also sporadically on Tumblr filling prompts here and there.**

 **As always, I'll see you on the other side!**

 **xx**


End file.
